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PRINTED    FOR    J.JOHNSON;     W.   J.    AND  J.    RICHARDSON;    OTR1DGE   AND    SON; 
H.  L.   GARDNER  J    F.  AND  C.   RIVINGTON  J  T.  PAYNE  ;  R.  FAULDER  ;  G.  AND  J. 



By  H.  Bryer,   Bridge-street,  Blackfrictrs. 






rception  in  bodies   insensible,  tending  to  natural* 
divination  and  subtile  trials ;  Page  i 

Of  the  causes  of  appetite  in  the  stomachy  9 

Of  sweetness  of  odour  from  the  rainbow  y  ibid. 

Of  sweet  smells ',  10* 

Of  the  corporeal  substance  of  smells,  ibid . 

Of  fetid  and  fragrant  odours,  1 1 

Of  the  causes  of  putrefaction,  13 

Of  bodies  imperfectly  mixt,  ibid. 

Of  concoction  and  crudity,  1 4 

Of  alterations,  which  may  be  called  majors,  1 5 

Of  bodies  liquefiable,  and  not  liquefiable,  16 

Of  bodies  fragile  and  tough,  ibid. 

Of  the  two  kinds  of  pneumaticals  in  bodies,  17 

Of  concretion  and  dissolution  of  bodies,  ibid. 

Of  bodies  hard  and  soft,  1 8 

Of  ductile  and  tensile,  ibid. 

Of  several  passions  of  matter,  and  characters  of  bodies, 


Of  induration  by  sympathy ',  2O 

Of  honey  and  sugar ,  ibid. 

Ofthetfiner  sort  of  base  metals,  2 1 

Of  certain  cements  and  quarries,  ibid . 

Of  the  altering  of  colours  in  hairs  and  feathers,  22 

Of  the  difference  of  living  creatures,  male  and  female, 


Of  the  comparative  magnitude  of  living  creatures,       23 
Of  producing  fruit  without  core  or  stone,  24 

Of  th e  melioration  of  tobacco,  ibid. 

Of  several  heats  working  (he  same  effects,  25 

Of  swelling  and  dilation  in  boiling,  ibid. 

Of  the  dulcoration  of  fruits,  26 

A  2 


Of  flesh  edible  and  not  edible,  26 

Of  the  salamander,  27 

Of  the  contrary  operations  of  time  on  fruits  and  liquors, 


Of  blows  and  bruises  y  ibid. 

Of  the  orrice  root,  29 

Of  the  compression  of  llq  uors,  ibid. 

Of  the  working  of  water  upon  air  contiguous^  ibid . 

Of  the  nature  of  air,  30 

Of  the  eyes  and  sight,  ibid . 

Of  the  colour  of  the  sea,  or  other  water,  32 

Of  shell- fish,  33 

Of  the  right  side,  and  the  left,  ibid. 

Of  frictions,  ibid. 

Of  globes  appearing  Jlat  at  distance,  34 

Of  shadows,  ibid. 

Of  the  rolling  and  breaking  of  the  seas,  ibid. 

Of  the  dulcoration  of  saltwater,  35 

Of  the  return  ofsaltness  in  pits  by  the  sea-shore,       ibid. 
Of  attraction  by  sim  ilitude  of  substance >  ibid. 

Of  attraction,  36 

Of  heat  under  earth,  ibid. 

Of  flying  in  the  air,  ibid. 

Of  the  scarlet  dye,  3  7 

Of  male  fie  i at  ing,  ibid. 

Of  the  rise  of  liquors,  or  powders,  by  means  of  jlame, 


Of  the  influences  of  the  moon,  38 

Of  vinegar,  40 

Of  creatures  that  sleep  all  winter,  41 

Of  the  generating  of  creatures  by  copulation,  and  by  pu- 
trefaction, ibid. 


Of  the  transmission  and  influx  of  immateriate  virtues, 
and  the  force  of  imagination,  43 

Of  the  emission  of  spirits  in  vapour,  or  exalation  odour- 
like,  49 

Of  emission  of  spiritual  species  zvhich  affect  the  senses, 


Of  emissions  of  immateriate  virtues,  from  the  minds  and 


the  spirits  of  men,  by  affections,  imagination,  or  other 
impressions,  56 

Of  the  secret  virtue  of  sympathy  and  antipathy, 
Of  secret  virtues  and  proprieties,  77 

Of  the  general  sympathy  of  men  s  spirits, 

New  Atlantis,  81 

Mr.  Bacon  in  praise  of  knowledge,  123 

Valerius  Terminus  of  the  interpretation  of  nature  :  a 

few  fragments  of  the  first  book,  1 27 

F i  him  Labyrinth  i,  sine  Formula  inquisitionis,  167 

Sequela  char tarum,  sive  inquisitio  legitima  de  Calore  et 

Frigore,  177 


Inquisitions  touching  the  compounding  of  metals,       187 
Questions  touching  minerals,  with  Dr.  MevereTs  solu- 
tions, 194 
Of  the  compounding,  incorporating,  or  union  of  metals 
or  minerals,                                                            ibid. 
Compound  metals  now  in  use,  1 98 
Of  the  separation  of  metals  and  m  inerals,                    199 
Of  the  variation  of  metals  into  several  shapes,  bodies,  or 
natures,                                                                     201 
Of  the  restitution  of  metah  and  minerals,                  206 
Inquisition  concerning  the  versions,  transmutations,  mul- 
tiplications, and  affections  of  bodies,                        2O7 
A  speech  concerning  the  recovering  of  drowned  mineral 
icorks,                                                                         208 
Experiments  about  weight  in  air  and  water,                2 10 
Certain  sudden  thoughts  of  the  lord  Bacon,  set  down  by 
him  under  the  title  of  Experiments  for  Profit,         2 1 2 
Experiments  about  the  commixture  of  liquors   only,  not 
solids,  without  heat  or  agitation,  but  only  by  simple 
composition  and  settling,                                           213 
A  catalogue  of  bodies,  attractive  and  not  attractive,  to- 
gether with   experimental  observations  about  attrac- 
tion,                                                                         215 


Grains  of  youth,  2 1 7 

Preserving  ointments,  ibid. 

A  purge  familiar  for  opening  the  liver,  ibid. 


JJ 'hie  for  the  spirits,  2 1 7 

The  preparing  of  saffron,  2 1 8 

Wine  against  adverse  melancholy,  preserving  the  senses 
and  the  reason,  ibid, 

Breakfast  preservative  against  the  gout  and  rheums,  ibid. 
77/6"  preparation  of  gar  lick,  ibid. 

The  artificial  preparation  of  damask  roses  for  smell,  ibid. 
A  restorative  drink,  ibid. 

Against  the  waste  of  body  by  heat,  2 1 9 

Methusalem  water  :  Against  all  asperity  and  tor  refac- 
tion of  inzvard  parts,  and  all  adustion  of  the  blood, 
and  generally  against  the  dryness  of  age,  ibid. 

A  catalogue  of  astringents,  openers,  and  cordials,       22O 
An  extract  by  the  lord  Bacon,  for  his  own  use,   out  of 
the  book  of  prolongation  of  life,  together  with  some  new 
advices  in  order  to  health,  223 


His  lordship's  usual  receipt  for  the  gout,  22  5 

His  lordship's  broth  and  fomentation  for  the  stone,  ibid. 

A  manus  Christifor  the  stomach,  227 

A  secret  for  the  stomach,  ibid. 

A  FRAGMENT  of  the  colours  of  good  and  evil,    23! 


1  Of  truth,  253 

2  Of  death,  255 

3  Of  unity  in  religion,  257 

4  Of  revenge,  26  i 

5  Of  adversity,  262 

6  Of  simulation  and  dissimulation,  263 

7  Of  parents  and  children,  266 

8  Of  marriage  and  single  life,  267 

9  Of  envy,  269 

10  Of  love,  273 

11  Of  great  place,  275 

12  Of  boldness,  278 

1 3  Of  goodness,  and  goodness  of  nature,  2  SO 

14  Of  nobility,  282 


15  Of  seditions  and  troubles,  283 

16  Of  atheism,  290 

17  Of  superstition,  292 

18  Of  travel,  294 

19  Of  empire,  296 

20  Of  counsel,  300 

21  Of  delays,  304 

22  Of  turning,  305 

23  Of  wisdom  for  a  man's  self,  309 

24  Of  innovations,  310 

25  Of  dispatch,  311 

26  Of  seeming  wise,  313 

27  Of  friendship,  314 

28  Of  expence,  321 

29  O/  £/#  /n/<?  greatness  of  kingdoms  and  estates,     322 

30  Q/  regimen  cf  health,  33O 

31  Of  suspicion,  332 

32  Of  discourse,  333 

33  Of  plantations i  335 

34  Q/  r/cto,  338 

35  Of  prophesies,  341 

36  Qf  ambition,  343 

37  Q/"  masques  and  triumphs,  345 

38  O/*  nature  in  men,  347 

39  Of  custom  and  education,  348 

40  Of  fortune,  350 

41  Q/*  wfwry,  35) 

42  Of  youth  and  age,  355 

43  Q/*  feflwty,  357 

44  O/  deformity,  358 

45  G/1  building,  359 

46  Of  gardens,  363 

47  O/"  negociatijig,  369 

48  Of  followers  and  friends,  370 

49  Of  suitors,  372 

50  Of  studies,  373 

51  Of  faction,  375 

52  Q/'  ceremonies  and  respects,  376 

53  Of  praise,  378 

54  Qf  vain-glory,  379 

55  Of  honour  and  reputation,  381 

56  Of  judicature,  382 


57  Of  anger,  386 

58  Of  vicissitude  of  things,  388 
Of  a  king,  393 
A  fragment  of  an  essay  on  fame,  395 

A  COLLECTION  of  APOPHTHEGMS,  ll€W  and  old,  401 

Ornamenta  rationalia,  464 

Short  notes  for  civil  conversation,  472 

An  essay  on  death,  473 


A  confession  of  faith,  481 

A  prayer  or  psalm,  489 

A  prayer,  490 

The  student's  prayer,  493 

The  writer's  prayer,  ibid. 

77/6-  characters  of  a  believing  Christian,  in  paradoxes, 

and  seeming  contradictions,  494 

An  advertisement  touching  the  controversies  of  the 

ch urch  of  England,  499 

Certain  considerations  touching  the  better  pacification 

and  edification  of  the  church  of  England,  525 

Circumstances  in  the  government  of  bishops,  531 

Concerning  the  liturgy,  the  ceremonies  and  subscription, 


Touching  a  preaching  ministry,  541 

Touching  the  abuse  of  excommunication,  545 

Touching  non-residents  and  pluralities,  546 

Touching  the  provision  for  sujjicient  maintenance  in  the 

church,  548 

The  translation  of  certain  psalms  into  English 'verse, — 

Psalm  i.  553 

Psalm  xn.  554 

Psalm  xc.  555 

Psalm  civ.  557 

Psalm  cxxvi.  560 

Psalm  cxxxvu.  561 

Psalm  CXLIX.  562 



in  consort  touching  perception  in  bodies  in- 
sensible, tending  to  natural  divination  or  subtile  trials. 

IT  is  certain,  that  all  bodies  whatsoever,  though  they 
have  no  sense,  yet   they  have  perception  :  for  when 
one  body  is  applied  to  another,  there  is  a  kind  of  elec- 
tion to  embrace   that  which  is  agreeable,  and  to  ex- 
clude or  expel  that  which  is   ingrate  :  and  whether 
the  body  be  alterant  or  altered,  evermore  a  percep- 
tion precedeth  operation  ,  for  else   all  bodies   would 
be  alike  one  to  another.     And  sometimes  this  percep- 
tion, in  some  kind  of  bodies,  is  far  more  subtile  than 
the  sense  ;  so  that  the  sense  is  but  a  dull  thing  in  com- 
parison of  it  :  we  see  a  weather-glass  will  find  the 
least  difference    of  the    weather,    in    heat,  or  cold, 
when  men  find  it  not.     And  this  perception  also  is 
sometimes  at  distance,  as  well  as  upon  the  touch ;  as 
\vhen   the    loadstone   draweth  iron ;  or  flame    fireth 
naphtha  of  Babylon,  a  great  distance  off.     It  is  there- 
fore a  subject  of  a  very  noble  inquiry,  to  inquire  of  the 
more    subtile  perceptions ;    for  it  is  another  key  to 
open  n-ature>  as  well   as   the  sense,  and   sometimes 
better.     And  besides,  it  is  a  principal  means  of  na- 
tural divination  ,  for  that  which  in  these  perceptions 
appeareth    early,  in    the    great  effects,  cometh  long 
after.     It  is  true  also,  that  it  serveth  to  discover  that 
which  is  hid,  as  well  as  to  foretel  that  which  is  to 
come,  as  it  is  in  many  subtile  trials;  as  to  try  whether 
seeds  be  old   or  new,  the  sense  cannot  inform  ;  but 
if  you  boil  them  in  water,  the  new  seeds  will  sprout 
sooner :  arid  so  of  water,  the  taste  will  not  discover 
the  best  water  ;  but  the  speedy  consuming  of  it,  and 
many  other   means,   which   we  have  heretofore   set 
down,  will  discover  it.     So  in  all  physiognomy,  the 

VOL.  II.  B 

2  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

lineaments.of  the  body  will  discover  those  natural  in- 
clinations of  the  mind  which  dissimulation  will  con- 
ceal, or  discipline  will  suppress.     We  shall  therefore 
now  handle  only  those  two  perceptions,  which  per- 
tain to  natural  divination  and  discovery ;  leaving  the 
handling  of  perception  in  other  things  to  be  disposed 
elsewhere.     Now  it  is  true,  that  divination  is  attained 
by  other  means  ;  as  if  you  know  the   causes,  if  you 
know  the  concomitants,  you  may  judge  of  the  effect 
to  follow :  and  the    like   may  be  said  of  discovery ; 
but  we  tie  ourselves  here  to  that  divination  and  dis- 
covery  chiefly,  which  is  caused  by  an  early  or  sub- 
tile perception. 

The  aptness  or  propension  of  air,  or  water,  to  cor- 
rupt or  putrify,  no  doubt,  is  to  be  found  before  it 
break  forth  into  manifest  effects  of  diseases,  blastings, 
or  the  like.  We  will  therefore  set  down  some  prog- 
nostics of  pestilential  and  unwholesome  years. 

801 .  THE  wind  blowing  much  from  the  south  with- 
out rain,  and   worms    in  the    oak-apple,  have  been 
spoken  of  before.     Also  the  plenty  of  frogs,  grass- 
hoppers, flies,  and   the  like  creatures  bred  of  putre- 
faction, doth  portend  pestilential  years. 

802.  GREAT   and  early  heats  in   the  spring,  and 
namely  in  May,  without  winds,  portend  the  same  ; 
and  generally  so  do  years  with  little  wind  or  thunder. 

803.  GREAT  droughts  in  summer,  lasting  till  towards 
the  end   of  August,  and  some  gentle  showers  upon 
them,  and  then  some  dry  weather  again,  do  portend 
a  pestilent  summer  the  year  following  :  for  about  the 
end  of  August  all  the  sweetness  of  the   earth,  which 
goeth  into   plants  and  trees,  is  exhaled,  and  much 
more  if  the  August  be  dry,  so  that  nothing  then  can 
breathe  forth  of  the  earth  but  a  gross  vapour,  which  is 
apt  to  corrupt  the  air :  and  that  vapour,  by  the  first 
showers,  if  they  be  gentle,  is  released,  and  cometh  forth 
abundantly.     Therefore  they  that  come  abroad  soon 
after  those  showers,  are  commonly  taken  with   sick- 
ness :  and  in   Africa,  nobody  will  stir  out  of  doors 
after  the  first  showers.     But  if  the  showers  come  ve- 
hement ly,  ..then  they  rather  wash  and  fill  the  earth; 

Cent.  IX.}  Natural  History. 

than  give  it  leave  to  breathe  forth  presently.  Bat  if 
dry  weather  come  again,  then  it  fixeth  and  continu- 
eth  the  corruption  of  the  air,  upon  the  first  showers 
begun  ;  and  maketh  it  of  ill  influence,  even  to  the 
next  summer;  except  a  very  frosty  winter  discharge 
it,  which  seldom  succeedeth  such  droughts. 

804.  THE  lesser  infections,  of  the  smail-pox,  purple 
fevers,  agues,  in  the  summer  precedent,  and  hovering 
all  winter,  do  portend  a  great  pestilence  in  the  sum- 
mer following ;  for  putrefaction  doth  not  rise  to  its 
height  at  once. 

805.  Ir  were  good  to  lay  a  piece  of  raw  flesh  or 
fish  in  the  open  air;  and  if  it  putrify  quickly,  it  is  a 
sign  of  a  disposition  in  the  air  to  putrefaction.     And 
because  you  cannot  be  informed  whether  the  putre- 
faction be  quick  or  late,  except  you  compare  this  ex- 
periment with  the  like  experiment  in  another  year, 
it  were  not  amiss  in  the  same  year,  and  at  the  same 
time,  to  lay  one  piece  of  flesh  or  fish  in  the  open  air, 
•and  another  of  the  same  kind  and  bigness  within  doors : 
for  I  judge,  that  if  a  general  disposition  be  in  the  air 
to  putrify,  the  flesh,  or  fish,  will  sooner  putrify  abroad 
where   the  air  hath  more  power,  than  in  the  house, 
where  it  hath  less,  being  many  ways  corrected.  And 
this  experiment  should  be   made    about  the    end   of 
March  :   for  that  season  is  likeliest  to  discover  what 
the  winter  hath  done,  and  what  the  summer  follow- 
ing will  do,  upon  the  air.     And  because  the  air,  no 
doubt,  receiveth  great  tincture  and  infusion  from  the. 
earth  ;  it  were  good  to  try  that  exposing  of  flesh  or 
fish,  both  upon  a  stake  of  wood  some  height  above 
the  earth,  and  upon  the  flat  of  the  earth. 

806.  TAKE  May-dew,  and  see  whether  it  putrify 
quickly  or  no  ;  for  that  likewise  may   disclose  the 
quality  of  the  air,  and  vapour  of  the  earth,  more  or 
less  corrupted. 

807.  A  DRY   March,  and  a   dry  May,   portend  a 
wholesome  summer,  if  there  be  a  showering  April 
between :  but  otherwise  it  is  a  sign  of  a  pestilen- 
tial .  year. 

808.  As  the  discovery  of  the  disposition  of  the  air 


Natural  History.  [Cent.   IX. 

is  good  for  the  prognostics  of  wholesome  and  un- 
wholesome years;  so  it  is  of  much  more  use,  for  the 
choice  of  places  to  dwell  in :  at  the  least,  for  lodges, 
and  retiring  places  for  health  :  for  mansion-houses 
respect  provisions  as  well  as  health,  wherein  the  ex- 
periments ahove-mentioned  may  serve. 

809.  BUT  for  the  choice  of  places,  or  seats,  it  is 
good  to  make  trial,  not  only  of  aptness  of  air  to  cor- 
rupt, but  also  of  the  moisture  and  dryness  of  the  air, 
and  the  temper  of  it  in  heat  or  cold  ;  for  that  may 
concern  health  diversly.     We  see  that  there  be  some 
houses,  wherein  sweet-meats  will  relent,  and  baked 
meats  will  mould,  more  than  in  others  ;  and  wain- 
scots will  also  sweat  more  ;  so  that  they  will  almost 
run  with   water  ;  all  which,  no   doubt,  are  caused 
chiefly  by   moistness  of  the  air  in  those  seats.     But 
because  it  is  better  to  know  it  before  a  man  buildeth 
his  house,  than  to  find  it  after,  take  the  experiments 

810.  LAY  wool,  or  a  sponge,  or  bread,  in  the  place 
you  would  try,  comparing  it  with  some  other  places; 
and  see  whether  it  doth  not  moisten,  and  make  the 
\vool,  or  sponge,  etc.  more  ponderous  than  the  other : 
and  if  it  do,  you  may  judge  of  that  place,  as  situate 
in  a  gross  and  moist  air. 

811.  BECAUSE  it   is  certain,  that  in   some  places, 
either  by  the  nature  of  the  earth,  or  by  the  situation 
of  woods  and   hills,   the  air  is  more  unequal  than  in 
others;   and  inequality  of  air  is   ever  an   enemy  to 
health  ;  it  were  good  to  take  two   weather-glasses, 
matches  in  all  things,  and  to  set  them,  for  the  same 
hours  of  one  day,  in  several  places,  where  no  shade  is, 
nor  inclosures  ;  and  to  mark  when  you  set  them,  how 

,  far  the  water  cometh ;  and  to  compare  them,  when 
you  come  again,  how  the  water  standeth  then  ;  and 
if  you  find  them  unequal,  you  may  be  sure  that  the 
place  where  the  water  is  lowest  is  in  the  warmer  air, 
and  the  other  in  the  colder.  And  the  greater  the  in- 

"  equality  be,  of  the  ascent  or  descent  of  the  water,  the 
greater  is  the  inequality  of  the  temper  of  the  air. 

812.  THE  predictions  like  wise  of  cold  and  long  win- 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History. 

ters,  and  hot  and  dry  summers,  are  good  to  be  known ; 
as  well  for  the  discovery  of  the  causes,  as  for  divers 
provisions.  That  of  plenty  of  haws  and  hips,  and 
brier-berries,  hath  been  spoken  of  before.  If  wain- 
scot, or  stone,  that  have  used  to  sweat,  be  more  dry 
in  the  beginning  of  winter,  or  the  drops  of  the 
eaves  of  houses  come  more  slowly  down  than  they 
use,  it  portendeth  a  hard  and  frosty  winter.  The 
cause  is,  for  that  it  sheweth  an  inclination  of  the  air  to 
dry  weather ;  which  in  winter  is  ever  joined  with 

813.  GENERALLY  a   moist  and   cool  summer  por- 
tendeth a  hard  winter.  The  cause  is,  for  that  the  va^- 
pours  of  the  earth  are  not  dissipated  in  the  summer 
by  the  sun  ;  and  so  they  rebound  upon  the  winter. 

814.  A  HOT  and  dry  summer,  and   autumn,   and 
especially  if  the  heat  and  drought  extend  far  into  Sep- 
tember, portendeth  an    open    beginning  of  winter ; 
and  colds   to  succeed  toward  the  latter  part  of  the 
winter,  and  the  beginning  of  the  spring  :  for  till  then 
the  former  heat  and  drought  bear  the  sway,  and  the 
vapours  are  not  sufficiently  multiplied. 

815.  AN  open  and  warm  winter  portendeth  a  hot 
and  dry  summer ;  for  the   vapours  disperse  into    the 
winter  showers  ;  whereas  cold  and  frost  keepeth  them 
in,  and  transporteth  them    into  the  late    spring  and 
summer  following. 

816.  BIRDS  that  use  to  change  countries  at  cer- 
tain   seasons,    if  they   come   earlier,    do    shew    the 
temperature  of  weather,  according   to  that  country 
whence  they  came :    as  the  winter  birds,    namely, 
woodcocks,  feldfares,  etc,  if  they  come  earlier,  and 
out  of  the  northern  countries,  with  us  shew  cold  win- 
ters. And  if  it  be  in  the  same  country,  then  they  shew 
a  temperature  of  season,  like   unto   that  season  in 
which  they  come :  as  swallows,  bats,  cuckooes,  etc. 
that  come  towards  summer,  if  they  come  early,  shew 
a  hot  summer  to  follow. 

817.  THE  prognostics,  more  immediate,  of  weather 
to  follow  soon   after,  are  more  certain  than  those  of 
seasons.  The  resounding  of  the  sea  upon  the  shore  -,  and 

Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

the  murmur  of  winds  in  the  woods,  without  apparent 
wind,  shew  wind  to  follow;  for  such  winds  breathing 
chiefly  out  of  the  earth,  are  not  at  the  first  perceived, 
except  they  be  pent  by  water  or  wood.  And  there- 
fore a  murmur  out  ot  caves  likewise  portendeth  as 

818.  THE  upper  regions  of  the  air  perceive  the  col- 
lection of  the  matter  of  tempests   and  winds,  before 
the  air  here  below  :  and  therefore  the  obscuring  of 
the  smaller  stars,  is  a  sign  of  tempest  following.    And 
of  this  kind  you  shall  find  a  number  of  instances  in 
our  inquisition  De  ventis. 

819.  GREAT  mountains  have  a  perception  of  the 
disposition  of  the  air  to  tempests,  sooner  than  the  val- 
leys or  plains  below :  and  therefore  they  say  in  Wales, 
when  certain  hills  have  their  night-caps  on,  they  mean 
mischief.  The  cause  is,  for  that  tempests,  which  are  for 
the  most  part  bred  above  in  the  middle  region,  as  they 
call  it,  are  soonest  perceived  to  collect  in  the  places 
next  it. 

820.  THE  air,  and  fire,  have  subtile  perceptions  of 
wind  rising,  before  men  find  it.     We  see  the  trem- 
bling of  a  candle  will  discover  a  wind  that  otherwise 
we  do  not  feel ;  and  the  flexuous  burning  of  flames 
doth  shew  the  airbeginneth  to  be  unquiet;  and  so  do 
coals  of  fire  by  casting  off  the  ashes  more  than  they 
use.     The  cause  is,  for  that  no  wind  at  the  first,  till 
it  hath  struck  and  driven  the  air,  is  apparent  to  the 
sense ;  but  flame  is  easier  to  move  than  air  :  and  for 
the  ashes,  it  is  no  marvel,   though  wind  unperceived 
shake  them  off;  for   we  usually  try  which    way  the 
wind  bloweth,  by  casting  up  grass  or  chaff,  or  such 
light  things  into  the  air. 

821.  WHEN  wind  expireth  from  under  the  sea,  as 
it  causeth  some  resounding  of  the  water,  whereof  we 
spake  before,  so  it  causeth  some  light  motions  of  bub- 
bles, and  white  circles  of  froth.     The  cause  is,  for 
that  the  wind  cannot  be  perceived  by  the  sense,  until 
there  be  an  eruption  of  a  great  quantity  from  under 
the  water  ;  and  so  it  getteth  into  a  body :  whereas  in 
the  first  putting  up  it  cometh  in  little  portions. 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History. 

-.  822.  WE  spake  of  the  ashes  that  coals  cast  off; 
and  of  grass  and  chaff  carried  by  the  wind  ;  so  any 
light  thing  that  moveth  when  we  find  no  wind, 
sheweth  a  wind  at  hand  :  as  when  feathers,  or  down 
of  thistles,  fly  to  and  fro  in  the  air. 

FOR  prognostics  of  weather  from  living  creatures, 
it  is  to  be  noted,  that  creatures  that  live  in  the  open 
air,  sub  dio,  must  needs  have  a  quicker  impression 
from  the  air,  than  men  that  live  most  within  doors; 
and  especially  birds  who  live  in  the  air  freest  and 
clearest;  and  are  aptest  by  their  voice  to  tell  tales 
what  they  find;  and  likewise  by  the  motion  of  their 
flight  to  express  the  same. 

823.  WATER-FOWLS,  as  sea-gulls,   moor-hens,  etc. 
when  they  flock  and  fly  together  from  the  sea  towards 
the  shores;  and   contrariwise,  land-birds,   as  crows, 
swallows,  etc.  when   they  fly  from   the  land  to  the 
waters,  and   beat  the  waters  with  their  wings,   do 
foreshew  rain  and  wind.     The  cause  is,  pleasure  that 
both  kinds  take  in  the  moistness  and  density  of  the 
air;  and  so  desire  to  be  in  motion, and  upon  the  wing, 
withersoever  they  would  otherwise  go :  for  it  is  no 
marvel,    that  water-fowl    do  joy  most    in   that   air 
which  is  likest  water;  and  land-birds  also,  many  of 
them,  delight  in  bathing,  and  moist  air.  For  the  same 
reason  also,  many  birds  do  prune  their  feathers ;  and 
geese  do  gaggle ;  and  crows  seem  to  call  upon  rain  : 
all  which  is    but  the  comfort  they  seem  to  receive  in 
the  relenting  of  the  air. 

824.  THE  heron,   when    she  soareth   high,    so    as 
sometimes  she  is  seen  to  pass  over  a  cloud,  sheweth 
winds  :  but  kites  flying  aloft  shew  fair  and  dry  weather. 
The  cause  may  be,  for  that  they  both  mount  most  in- 
to the  air  of  that  temper  wherein  they  delight :  and  the 
heron  being  a  water-fowl,  taketh  pleasure  in  the  air 
that  is  condensed;  and  besides,    being  but  heavy  of 
wing,  needeth  the  help   of  the  grosser  air.     But  the 
kite  affecteth  not  so  much  the  grossness  of  the  air,  as 
the  cold  and  freshness  thereof;  for  being  a  bird  of 
prey,  and  therefore  hot,  she  delighteth  in  the  fresh 
air;  and,  many  times,  flyeth  against  the  wind;  as 

8  Natural  History.  [Gent.  IX, 

trouts  and  salmons  swim  against  the  stream.  And 
yet  it  is  true  also,  that  all  birds  find  an  ease  in  the 
depth  of  the  air;  as  swimmers  do  in  a.  deep  water. 
And  therefore  when  they  are  aloft,  they  can  uphold 
themselves  with  their  wings  spread,  scarce  moving 

825.  FISHES,  when  they  play   towards  the   top  of 
the  water,  do  commonly  foretel  rain.     The  cause  is, 
for  that  a  fish  hating  the  dry,  will  not  approach  the 
air  till  it  groweth  moist ;  and  when  it  is  dry,  will  fly 
it,  and  swim  lower. 

826.  BEASTS  do  take  comfort  generally  in  a  moist 
air;  and  it  maketh  them  eat  their  meat  better;  and 
therefore  sheep  will  get  up  betimes  in  the  morning  to 
feed  against  rain:  and  cattle,  and  deer,  and  conies, 
will  feed  hard  before  rain  ;  and  a  heifer  will  put  up  her 
nose,  and  snufFin  the  air  against  rain. 

827.  THE  trefoil  against  rain  swelleth  in  the  stalk  $ 
and  so  standeth  more  upright;  for  by  wet,  stalks  do 
erect,  and  leaves  bow  down.     There   is  a  small  red 
flower  in  the  stubble-fields,  which  country-people  call 
t}ie  w incopipe  ;  which  if  it  open  in  the  morning,  you 
may  be  sure  of  a  fair  day  to  follow. 

828.  EVEN  in  men,  aches,    and  hurts,   and  corns, 
do  engrieve  either  towards  rain,  or  towards  frost:  for 
the  one  maketh  the  humours  more  to  abound ;  and  the 
other  maketh  them  sharper.    So  we  see  both  extremes 
bring  the  gout. 

829.  WORMS,    vermin,  etc.  do  foreshew  likewise 
rain  :  for  earth-worms  will  come  forth,  and  moles  will 
cast  up  more,  and  fleas  bite  more,  against  rain. 

830.  SOLID    bodies    likewise    foreshew   rain.     As 
stones  and  wainscot  when  they  sweat:  and  boxes  and 
pegs  of  wood,  when   they  draw    and    wind  hard; 
though  the  former  be  but  from  an  outward  cause  ;  for 
that  the  stone,  or  wainscot,  turneth  and  beateth  back 
the   air  against  itself;  but   the  latter   is  an  inward 
swelling  of  the  body  of  the  wood  itself. 

Cent.  IX.}  Natural  History.  9 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  nature  of  appetite  in  the 


831.  APPETITE  is  moved  chiefly  by  things  that  are 
cold  and  dry ;  the  cause  is,  for  that  cold  is  a  kind  of 
indigence  of  nature,  and  calleth  upon  supply ;  and  so 
is  dryness :  and  therefore  all  sour  things,  as  vinegar, 
juice  of  lemons,  oil  of  vitriol,  etc.  provoke  appetite. 
And  the  disease  which   they  call  appetitus  can'mus, 
consisteth  in  the  matter  of  an  acid  and  glassy  phlegm 
in  the  mouth  of  the  stomach.     Appetite  is  also  moved 
by  sour  things  ;  for  that  sour  things  induce  a  contrac- 
tion in  the  nerves  placed  in  the  mouth  of  the  stomach, 
which  is  a  great  cause  of  appetite.     As  for  the  cause 
why  onions,  and  salt,  and  pepper,   in  baked  meats, 
move  appetite,  it  is  by  velljcation  of  those  nerves ;  for 
motion  whetteth.     As  for  wormwood,  olives,  capers, 
and  others  of  that  kind,  which  participate  of  bitterness, 
they  move  appetite    by   abstersion.     So  as  there  be 
four  principal  causes  of  appetite  ;  the  refrigeration 
of  the  stomach  joined  with  some  dryness,  contraction, 
vellication,  and  abstersion  ;  besides  hunger;  which  is 
an  emptiness;  and  yet  over-fasting  doth,  many  times, 
cause  the  appetite  to    cease ;  for  that  want  of  meat 
maketh  the  stomach  draw  humours,    and   such   hu- 
mours as  are  light  and  choleric,  which  quench  appe- 
tite most. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  sweetness  of  odour  from  the 


832.  IT  hath  been  observed  by  the  ancients,  that 
where  a  rainbow  seemeth  to  hang  over,  or  to  touch, 
there  breatheth  forth  a  sweet  smell.     The  cause  is,  for 
that  this  happeneth   but    in   certain  matters,  which 
have  in  themselves  some  sweetness ;  which  the  gen- 
tle dew  of  the  rainbow  doth  draw  forth  :  and  the  like 
do    soft .  showers ;  for    they    also    make   the    ground 
sweet :  but  none  are  so  delicate  as  the  dew  of  the 
rainbow  where    it  falleth.     It  may  be  also  that  the 
water  itself  hath   some  sweetness  ;  for  the  rainbow 
consisteth   of  a   glomeration  of  small  drops,  which 
cannot  possibly  fall  but  from  the  air  that  is  very  low  ; 

10  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

and  therefore  may  hold  the  very  sweetness  of  the  herbs 
and  flowers,  as  a  distilled  water:  for  rain,  and  other 
dew  that  fall  from  high,  cannot  preserve  the  smell, 
being  dissipated  in  the  drawing  up:  neither  do  we 
know,  whether  some  water  itself  may  not  have  some 
degree  of  sweetness.  It  is  true,  that  we  find  it  sensibly 
in  no  pool,  river,  nor  fountain  ;  but  good  earth  newly 
turned  up,  hath  a  freshness  and  good  scent;  which 
water,  if  it  be  not  too  equal,  for  equal  objects  never 
move  the  sense,  may  also  have.  Certain  it  is,  that 
bay-salt,  which  is  but  a  kind  of  water  congealed,  will 
sometimes  smell  like  violets. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  sweet  smells. 

833.  To  sweet  smells  heat  is  requisite  to  concoct 
the  matter;  and  some  moisture  to  spread  the  breath 
of  them.     For  heat,  we  see  that  woods  and  spices 
are  more  odorate  in  the  hot  countries   than   in   the 
cold  :  for  moisture,  we  see  that  things  too  much  dried 
lose   their    sweetness :    and    flowers  growing,    smell 
better  in  a  morning  or  evening  than  at  noon.     Some 
sweet  smells  are  destroyed  by  approach  to  the  fire  ;  as 
violets,  wall-flowers,  gilly-flowers,  pinks ;  and  gene- 
rally all  flowers  that  have  cool  and  delicate  spirits. 
Some  continue  both  on  the  fire,  and  from  the  fire ; 
as  rose-water,  etc.    Some  do  scarce  come  forth,  or  at 
least  not  so  pleasantly,  as  by  means  of  the  fire ;    as 
juniper,  sweet  gums,  etc.  and  all  smells  that  are  en- 
closed in  a  fast  body  :  but  generally  those  smells  are 
the  most  grateful,  where  the  degree  of  heat  is  small , 
or  where  the    strength  of  the  smell  is  allayed ;  for 
tliese  things  do  rather  woo  the  sense,  than  satiate  iU 
And  therefore  the  smell  of  violets  and  roses  exceedeth 
in  sweetness  that  of  spices  and  gums ;  and  the  strongest 
sort  of  smells  are  best  in  a  weft  afar  off. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  corporeal  substance  of 


834.  IT  is  certain,  that  no  smell  issueth  but  with 
emission  of  some  corporeal  substance  ;  not  as  it  is  in 
light,  and  colours,  and  in  sounds.    For  we  see, 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  11 

that  smell  doth  spread  nothing  that  distance  that  the 
other  do.  It  is  true,  that  some  woods  of  oranges, 
and  heaths  of  rosemary,  will  smell  a  great  way  into 
the  sea,  perhaps  twenty  miles;  but  what  is  that,  since 
a  peal  of  ordnance  will  do  as  much,  which  moveth 
in  a  small  compass  ?  Whereas  those  woods  and  heaths 
are  of  vast  spaces ;  besides,  we  see  that  smells  do 
adhere,  to  hard  bodies  ;  as  in  perfuming  of  gloves,  etc. 
which  sheweth  them  corporeal ;  and  do  last  a  great 
while,  which  sounds  and  light  do  not. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  fetid  and  fragrant  odours. 

835.  THE  excrements  of  most  creatures  smell  ill; 
chiefly  .to  the  same  creature  that  voideth  them  :  for 
we  see,  besides  that  of  man,  that  pigeons  and  horses 
thrive  best,  if  their  houses  and  stables  be  kept  sweet ; 
and  so  of  cage-birds  :  and  the  cat  burieth  that  which 
she  voideth  :  and  it  holdeth  chiefly  in  those  beasts 
which  feed  upon  flesh.  Dogs  almost  only  of  beasts 
delight  in  fetid  odours  ;  which  sheweth  there  is  some- 
what in  their  sense  of  smell  differing  from  the  smells 
of  other  beasts.  But  the  cause  why  excrements  smell 
ill,  is  manifest ;  for  that  the  body  itself  rejecteth  them ; 
much  more  the  spirits :  and  we  see  that  those  excre- 
ments that  are  of  the  first  digestion,  smell  the  worst ; 
as  the  excrements  from  the  belly  :  those  that  are  from 
the  second  digestion  less  ill ;  as  urine  :  and  those  that 
are  from  the  third,  yet  less  ;  for  sweat  is  not  so  bad 
as  the  other  two  ;  especially  of  some  persons,  that 
are  full  of  heat.  Likewise  most  putrefactions  are  of 
an  odious  smell :  for  they  smell  either  fetid  or  mouldy. 
The  cause  may  be,  for  that  putrefaction  doth  bring 
forth  such  a  consistence,  as  is  most  contrary  to  the 
consistence  of  the  body  whilst  it  is  sound :  for  it  is  a 
mere  dissolution  of  that  form.  Besides,  there  is  ano- 
ther reason,  which  is  profound :  and  it  is,  that  the 
objects  that  please  any  of  the  senses  have  all  some 
equality,  and  as  it  were  order  in  their  composition  ; 
but  where  those  are  wanting,  the  object  is  ever  in- 
grate.  So  mixture  of  many  disagreeing  colours  is 
ever  unpleasant  to  the  eye :  mixture  of  discordant 

12  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

sounds  is  unpleasant  to  the  ear :  mixture,  or  hotch- 
potch of  many  tastes,  is  unpleasant  to  the  taste  :  harsh- 
ness and  ruggedness  of  bodies  is  unpleasant  to  the 
touch  :  now  it  is  certain,  that  all  putrefaction,  being 
a  dissolution  of  the  first  form,  is  a  mere  confusion  and 
unformed  mixture  of  the  part.  Nevertheless  it  is 
strange,  and  seemeth  to  cross  the  former  observation, 
that  some  putrefactions  and  excrements  do  yield  ex- 
cellent odours,  as  civet  and  musk ;  and,  as  some  think, 
ambergrease  :  for  divers  take  it,  though  improbably, 
to  come  from  the  sperm  of  a  fish  :  and  the  moss  we 
spake  of  from  apple-trees,  is  little  better  than  an  ex- 
cretion. The  reason  may  be,  for  that  there  passeth 
in  the  excrements,  and  remaineth  in  the  putrefactions, 
some  good  spirits;  especially  where  they  proceed 
from  creatures  that  are  very  hot.  But  it  may  be  also 
joined  with  a  further  cause,  which  is  more  subtile  ; 
and  it  is,  that  the  senses  love  not  to  be  over-pleased, 
but  to  have  a  commixture  of  somewhat  that  is  in 
itself  ingrate.  Certainly,  we  see  how  discords  in 
music,  falling  upon  concords,  make  the  sweetest 
vStrains:  and  we  see  again,  what  strange  tastes  delight 
the  taste  ;  as  red  herrings,  caviary,  parmesan,  etc. 
And  it  may  be  the  same  hoideth  in  smells :  for  those 
kind  of  smells  that  we  have  mentioned,  are  all  strong, 
and  do  pull  and  vellicate  the  sense.  And  we  find 
also,  that  places  where  men  urine,  commonly  have 
some  smell  of  violets  :  and  urine,  if  one  hath  eaten 
nutmeg,  hath  so  too. 

THE  slothful,  general,  and  indefinite  contempla- 
tions, and  notions  of  the  elements  and  their  con- 
jugations ;  of  the  influences  of  heaven  ;  of  heat,  cold, 
moisture,  drought,  qualities  active,  passive,  and  the 
]ike  ;  have  swallowed  up  the  true  passages,  and  pro- 
cesses, and  affects,  and  consistences  of  matter  and  na- 
tural bodies.  Therefore  they  are  to  be  set  aside,  be- 
ing but  notional  and  ill  limited  ;  and  definite  axioms 
are  to  be  drawn  out  of  measured  instances :  and  so 
assent  to  be  made  to  the  more  general  axioms  by 
scale.  And  of  these  kinds  of  processes  of  natures  and 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  1 3 

characters  of  matter,  we  shall  now  set  down  some 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  causes  of  putrefaction. 

836.  ALL  putrefactions  come  chiefly  from  the  in- 
ward spirits  of  the  body  ;  and  partly  also  from  the  am- 
bient body,  be  it  air,  liquor,  or  whatsoever  else.    And 
this  last,  by  two  means  :  either  by  ingress  of  the  sub- 
stance of  the  ambient  body  into  the  body  putrified ; 
or  by  excitation  and  solicitation  of  the  body  putrified, 
and  the  parts  thereof,  by  the  body  ambient.     As  for 
the   received   opinion,    that   putrefaction    is   caused, 
either  by  cold,  or  peregrine  and  preternatural  heat,  it 
is  but  nugation  :  for  cold  in  things  inanimate,  is  the 
greatest  enemy  that  is  to  putrefaction  ;  though  it  ex- 
tinguisheth  vivification,  which  everconsisteth  inspirits 
attenuate,  which  the  cold  doth  congeal  and  coagu- 
late.    And  as  for  the  peregrine  heat,  it  is  thus  far 
true,  that  if  the  proportion  of  the  adventive  heat  be 
greatly  predominant  to  the  natural  heat  and  spirits  of 
the  body,  it  tendeth  to  dissolution,  or  notable  altera- 
tion.   But  this  is  wrought  by  emission,  or  suppression, 
or  suffocation,  of  the  native  spirits ;  and  also  by  the 
disordination  and  discomposure  of  the  tangible  parts, 
and  other  passages  of  nature,  and  not  by  a  conflict  of 

Experiment  solitary  touching  bodies  imperfectly  mixed. 

837.  IN  versions,   or  main   alterations  of  bodies, 
there  is  a  medium  between  the  body,  as  it  is  at  first, 
and  the  body  resulting  ;  which  medium  is  corpus  im- 
perfecte  mistum,  and  is  transitory,  and  not  durable  ; 
as  mists,   smokes,  vapours,   chylus    in  the  stomach, 
living    creatures    in  the    first    vivification :    and  the 
middle  action,whichproduceth  such  imperfect  bodies, 
is  fitly  called,  by  some  of  the  ancients,  inquination 
or  inconcoction,  which  is  a  kind  of  putrefaction:  for 
the  parts  are  in  confusion,  till  they  settle  one  way  or 

14  Xatural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  concoction  and  crudity. 

838.  THE  word  concoction,  or  digestion,  is  chiefly 
taken  into  use  from  living  creatures  and  their  organs ; 
and  from  thence  extended  to  liquors  and  fruits,  etc. 
Therefore  they  speak  of  meat  concocted  :   urine  and 
excrements  concocted ;  and   the  four  digestions,  in 
the  stomach,  in  the  liver,  in  the  arteries  and  nerves, 
and    in  the  several   parts  of  the  body,  are  likewise 
called  concoctions :  and  they  are  ail  made  to  be  the 
works  of  heat;   all  which  notions  are  but  ignorant 
catches  of  a  few  things,  which  are  most  obvious  to 
mens  observations.      The  constantest  notion  of  con- 
coction is,  that  it  should  signify  the  degrees  of  altera- 
tion of  one  body  into  another,  from  crudity  to  perfect 
concoction ;  which  is  the  ultimity  of  that  action  or 
process ;  and  while   the   body  to   be  converted  and 
altered  is  too  strong  for  the  efficient  that  should  con- 
vert or  alter  it,  whereby  it  resisteth  and  holdeth  fast 
in  some  degree  the  first  form  or  consistence,  it  is  all 
that  while  crude  and  inconcoct ;  and  the  process  is 
to  be  called  crudity  and  inconcoction.   It  is  true,  that 
concoction  is  in  great  part  the  work  of  heat,  but  not 
the  work  of  heat  alone :  for  all  things  that  further  the 
conversion,  or  alteration,  as  rest,  mixture  of  a  body 
already  concocted,  etc.  are  also  means  to    concoc- 
tion.    And    there    are    of  concoction   two  periods; 
the  one  assimilation,  or  absolute  conversion  and  sub- 
action  ;  the  other  maturation  ,  whereof  the  former  is 
most  conspicuous  in  the  bodies  of  living  creatures  -,  in 
which  there  is  an  absolute  conversion  and  assimilation 
of  the  nourishment  into  the  body :  and  likewise  in 
the  bodies  of  plants  :  and  again  in  metals,  where  there 
is  a  full  transmutation.     The  other,  which  is  matu- 
ration, is  seen  in  liquors  and  fruits  j  wherein  there  is 
not  desired,  nor  pretended,  an  utter  conversion,  but 
only  an  alteration  to  that  form  which  is  most  sought 
for  man's  use  ;  as  in  clarifying  of  drinks,  ripening  of 
fruits,  etc.    But  note,  that  there  be  two  kinds  of  abso- 
lute conversions ;  the  one  is,  when  a  body  is  converted 
into  another  body,  which  was  before  j  as  when  nou- 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  15 

rishment  is  turned  into  flesh  ;  that  is  it  which  we  call 
assimilation.  The  other  is,  when  the  conversion  is 
into  a  body  merely  new,  and  which  was  not  before;  as 
if  silver  should 'be  turned  to  gold,  or  iron  to  cop- 
per :  and  this  conversion  is  better  called,  for  distinc- 
tion sake,  transmutation. 

Experiments  solitary  touching  alterations,    which  may 
be  called  majors. 

839.  THERE  are  also  divers  other  great  alterations 
of  matter  and  bodies,  besides  those  that  tend  to  con- 
coction and  maturation  ;  for  whatsoever  doth  so  alter 
a  body,  as  it  returneth  not  again  to  that  it  was,  may 
be  called  alter  atlo  major  ;  as  when  meat  is  boiled,  or 
roasted,  or  fried,  etc.  or  when  bread  and  meat  are 
baked  ;  or  when  cheese  is  made  of  curds,  or  butter  of 
cream,  or  coals  of  wood,  or  bricks  of  earth;  and  a 
number  of  others.  But  to  apply  notions  philosophical 
to  plebeian  terms ;  or  to  say,  where  the  notions  cannot 
fitly  be  reconciled,  that  there  wanteth  a  term  or  no- 
menclature for  it,  as  the  ancients  used,  they  be  but 
shifts  of  ignorance;  for  knowledge  will  be  ever  a 
wandering  and  indigested  thing,  if  it  be  but  a  com- 
mixture of  a  few  notions  that  are  at  hand  and  occur, 
and  not  excited  from  a  sufficient  number  of  instances, 
and  those  well  collated. 

THE  consistences  of  bodies  are  very  divers  :  dense, 
rare  ;  tangible,  pneumatical ;  volatile,  fixed ;  deter- 
minate, not  determinate  ;  hard,  soft ;  cleaving,  not 
cleaving ;  congelable,  not  congelable  ;  liquefiable, 
•not  liquefiable ;  fragile,  tough  ;  flexible,  inflexible  ; 
tractile,  or  to  be  drawn  forth  in  length,  intractiie  ; 
porous,  solid  ;  equal  and  smooth,  unequal ;  venous 
and  fibrous, and  with  grains  entire  ;  and  divers  others; 
all  which  to  refer  to  heat,  and  cold,  and  moisture, 
and  drought,  is  a  compendious  and  inutile  specula- 
tion. But  of  these  see  principally  our  Abcedarium  ?ia- 
tuf\c ;  and  otherwise  sparsim  in  this  our  Sylra  Syl- 
varum :  nevertheless,  in  some  good  part,  we  shall 
handle  divers  of  them  now  presently. 

16  Natural  History.  [Cent. 

Experiment   solitary   touching  bodies    liquefiable,   mid 

not  liquefiable. 

840.  LIQUEFIABLK,    and   not  liquefiable,    proceed 
from  these  causes  :   liquefaction  is  evef  caused  by  the 
detention  of  the  spirits,  which  play  within  the  body 
and  open  it.     Therefore  such  bodies  as  are  more  tur- 
gid of  spirit ;    or  that  have  their  spirits  more  straitly 
imprisoned;  or,  again,  that  hold  them  better  pleased 
and  content,  are  liquefiable  :  for  these  three  disposi- 
tions of  bodies  do   arrest  the  emission  of  the  spirits* 
An  example  of  the  first  two  properties  is  in  metals  • 
and  of  the  last  in  grease,  pitch,  sulphur,  butter,  wax, 
etc.     The  disposition  not  to  liquefy  proceedeth  from 
the  easy  emission  of  the  spirits,  whereby  the  grosser 
parts  contract ;  and  therefore  bodies  jejune  of  spirits, 
or  which  part  with  their  spirits  more  willingly,  are 
not  liquefiable ;  as  wood,  clay,  free-stone,  etc.     But 
yet  even  many  of  those  bodies  that  wrill  not  melt,  or 
will  hardly  melt,  will  notwithstanding  soften;  as  iron 
in  the  forge  ;  and  a  stick  .bathed  in  hot  ashes,   which 
thereby    becometh    more  flexible.     Moreover   there 
are  some  bodies  which  do  liquefy  or  dissolve  by  fire  ; 
as    metals,  wax,  etc.    and   other   bodies   which  dis- 
solve in  water  ;  as  salt,  sugar,  etc.     The  cause  of  the 
former  proceedeth  from  the  dilatation  of  the  spirits  by 
heat :  the   cause  of  the    latter  proceedeth  from   the 
opening  of  the  tangible  parts,  which  desire  to  receive 
the  liquor.     Again,   there  are  some  bodies  that  dis- 
solve with  both  ;  as  gum,  etc.     And  those   be   such 
bodies,  as  on  the  one  side  have  good  store  of  spirit  ; 
and  on  the  other  side,  have  the  tangible  parts  indigent 
of  moisture;  for  the  former  helpeth  to  the  dilating  of 
the  spirits  by  fire  ;  and  the  latter  stimulated!  the  parts 
to  receive  the  liquor. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  bodies  fragile  and  tough. 

811.  OF  bodies,  some  are  fragile;  and  some  are 
tough,  and  not  fragile  ;  and  in  the  breaking,  some 
fragile  bodies  break  but  where  the  force  is ;  some 
'shatter  and  fly  in  many  places.  Of  fragility,  the  cause 
is  an  impotency  to  be  extended  j  and  therefore  stone 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History-.  17 

is  more  fragile  than  metal ;  and  so  fictile  "earth  is  more 
fragile  than  crude  earth  ;  and  dry  wood  than  green. 
And  the  cause  of  this  unaptness  to  extension,  is  the 
small  quantity  of  spirits,  for  it  is  the  spirit  that  fur- 
thereth  the  extension  or  dilatation  of  bodies,  and  it  is 
ever  concomitant  with  porosity^  and  with  dryness  in 
the  tangible  parts  \  contrariwise,  tough  bodies  have 
more  spirit,  and  fewer  pores,  and  moister  tangible 
parts  :  therefore  we  see  that  parchment  or  leather  will 
stretch,  paper  wiil  not;  woollen  cloth  will  tenter, 
linen  scarcely* 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  two  kinds  of  pneuma- 
ticals  in  bodies. 

842.  ALL  solid  bodies  consist  of  parts  of  two  seve- 
ral natures,  pneumatical  and  tangible;  and  it  is  well 
to  be  noted,  that  the  pneumatical  substance  is  in  some 
bodies  the  native  spirit  of  the  body,  and  in  some  other, 
plain  air  that  is  gotten   in ;    as    in  bodies    desiccate 
by  heat  or  age :  for  in  them,  when  the  native  spirit 
goeth   forth,  and  the  moisture  with  it,  the  air  with 
time  getteth  into  the  pores.     And  those  bodies  are 
ever  the  more  fragile  ;  for  the  native  spirit  is  more 
yielding  and  extensive,  especially  to  follow  the  parts, 
than  air.     The  native  spirits  also  admit  great  diver- 
sity ;  as  hot,  cold,  active,  dull,  etc.  whence  proceed 
most  of  the  virtues  and  qualities,  as  we  call  them,  of 
bodies  :  but  the  air  intermixed  is  without  virtues,  and 
maketh  things  insipid,  and  without  any  extimulation. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  concretion  and  dissolution 
of  bodies. 

843.  THE  concretion  of  bodies  is  commonly  solved 
by  the  contrary  ;  as  ice,  which  is  congealed  by  cold, 
is  dissolved   by  heat  ;   salt  and  sugar,  which  are  ex- 
cocted  by  heat,  are  dissolved   by  cold  and  moisture. 
The  cause  is,  for  that  these  operations  are  rather  re- 
turns to  their  former  nature,  than  alterations  ;  so  that 
the  contrary  cureth.      As  for  oil,    it   doth    neither* 
easily   congeal    with    cold,   nor  thicken  with  heat. 
The  cause  of  both  effects,  though  they  be  produced  by 
contrary  efficients,  seemeth  to  be  the  same ;  and  that 

VOL,  II.  C 

I  *  Natural  History.  [Cent. 

is,  because  the  spirit  of  the  oil  by  either  means  ex- 
haleth  little,  for  the  cold  keepeth  it  in  ;  and  the  heat, 
except  it  be  vehement,  doth  not  call  it  forth.  As  for  cold, 
though  it  take  hold  of  the  tangible  parts,  yet  as  to  the 
spirits,  it  doth  rather  make  them  swell  than  congeal 
them  :  as  when  ice  is  congealed  in  a  cup,  the  ice  will 
swell  instead  of  contracting,  and  sometimes  rift. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  hard  and  soft  bodies. 

844.  OF  bodies,  some  we  see  are  hard,  and  some 
soft:  the  hardness  is  caused  chiefly  by  the  jejuneness 
of  the  spirits,  and  their  imparity  with  the  tangible 
parts :  both  which,  if  they  be  in  a  greater  degree, 
make  them  not  only  hard,  but  fragile,  and  less  en- 
during of  pressure ;  as  steel,  stone,  glass,  dry  wood, 
etc.  Softness  cometh  contrariwise,  by  the  greater 
quantity  of  spirits,  which  everhelpeth  to  induce  yield- 
ing and  cession,  and  by  the  more  equal  spreading  of 
the  tangible  parts,  which  thereby  are  more  sliding  and 
following  ;  as  in  gold,  lead,  wax,  etc.  But  note,  that 
soft  bodies,  as  we  use  the  word,  are  of  two  kinds ; 
the  one,  that  easily  givcth  place  to  another  body,  but 
altereth  not  bulk,  by  rising  in  other  places :  and  there- 
fore we  see  that  wax,  if  you  put  any  thing  into  it, 
doth  not  rise  in  bulk,  but  only  giveth  place  :  for  you 
may  not  think,  that  in  printing  of  wax,  the  wax  riseth 
up  at  all ;  but  only  the  depressed  part  giveth  place, 
and  the  other  remaineth  as  it  was.  The  other  that 
altereth  bulk  in  the  cession,  as  water,  or  other  liquors, 
If  you  put  a  stone  or  any  thing  into  them,  they  give 
place  indeed  easily,  but  then  they  rise  all  over  ;  which 
is  a  false  cession  ;  for  it  is  in  place,  and  not  in  body. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  bodies  ductile  and  tensile. 
315.  ALL  bodies  ductile  and  tensile,  as  metals, 
that  will  be  drawn  into  wires;  wool  and  tow,  that 
\vill  be  drawn  into  yarn  or  thread,  have  in  them 
the  appetite  of  not  discontinuing  strong,  which  mak- 
'eth  them  follow  the  force  that  pulleth  them  out  ;  and 
yet  so,  as  not  to  discontinue  or  forsake  their  own 
body.  Viscous  bodies  likewise,  as  pitch,  wax,  bird- 
lime, cheese  toasted,  will  draw  forth  and  rope.  But 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History. 

the  difference  between  bodies  fibrous  and  bodies  vis* 
ecus  is  plain;  for  all  wool,  and  tow,  and  cotton* 
and  silk,  especially  raw  silk,  have,  besides  their 
desire  of  continuance,  in  regard  of  the  tenuity  of  their 
thread,  a  greediness  of  moisture;  and  by  moisture  to 
join  and  incorporate  with  other  thread ;  especially  if 
there  be  a  little  wreathing;  as  appeareth  by  the  twist- 
ing of  thread,  and  the  practice  of  twirling  about  of 
spindles.  And  we  see  also,  that  gold  and  silver 
thread  cannot  be  made  without  twisting. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  other  passions  of  matter , 
and  characters  of  bodies. 

846.  THE  differences  of  impressible  and  not  impres- 
sible; figurable  and  not  figurable ;  mouldable  and 
not  mouldable  ;  scissile  and  not  scissile ;  and  many 
other  passions  of  matter,  are  plebeian  notions,  ap- 
plied unto  the  instruments  and  uses  which  men  ordi- 
narily practise  ;  but  they  are  all  but  the  effects  of  some 
of  these  causes  following,  which  we  will  enumerate 
without  applying  them,  because  that  will  be  too  long. 
The  first  is  the  cession,  or  not  cession  of  bodies,  into 
a  smaller  space  or  room,  keeping  the  outward  bulk, 
and  not  flying  up.  The  second  is  the  stronger  or 
weaker  appetite  in  bodies  to  continuity,  and  to  fly 
discontinuity.  The  third  is  the  disposition  of  bodies 
to  contract  or  not  contract :  and  again,  to  extend,  or 
not  extend.  The  fourth  is  the  small  quantity,  or 
great  quantity  of  the  pneumatical  in  bodies.  The 
fifth  is  the  nature  of  the  pneumatical,  whether  it  be 
native  spirit  of  the  body,  or  common  air.  The  sixth 
is  the  nature  of  the  native  spirits  in  the  body,  whether 
they  be  active  and  eager,  or  dull  and  gentle.  The 
seventh  is  the  emission  or  detention  of  the  spirits  in 
bodies.  The  eighth  is  the  dilatation  or  contraction  of 
the  spirits  in  bodies,  while  they  are  detained.  The 
ninth  is  the  collocation  of  the  spirits  in  bodies^  whe- 
ther the  collocation  be  equal  or  unequal ;  and  again, 
whether  the  spirits  be  coacervate  or  diffused.  The 
tenth  is  the  density  or  rarity  of  the  tangible  parts.  The 
eleventh  is  the  equality  or  inequality  of  the  tangible 

c  2 

20  Natural  Itislory.  [Cent.  IX, 

parts.  The  twelfth  is  the  digestion,  or  crudity  of  the 
tangible  parts.  The  thirteenth  is  the  nature  of  the 
matter,  whether  sulphureous  or  mercurial,  watery  or 
oily,  dry  and  terrestrial,  or  moist  and  liquid;  which 
natures  of  sulphureous  and  mercurial,  seem  to  be  na- 
tures radical  and  principal.  The  fourteenth  is  the 
placing  of  the  tangible  parts  in  length  or  transverse^ 
as  it  is  in  the  warp  and  the  woof  of  textiles,  more  in- 
ward or  more  outward,  etc.  The  fifteenth  is  the  po- 
rosity or  imporosity  betwixt  the  tangible  parts,  and 
the  greatness  or  smallness  of  the  pores.  The  sixteenth 
is  the  collocation  and  posture  of  the  pores.  There  may 
be  more  causes  ;  but  these  do  occur  for  the  present. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  induration  by  sympathy. 

847.  TAKE  lead  and  melt   it,  and  in   the  midst  of 
it,  when  it  beginneth  to  congeal,  make  a  little  dint 
or  hole,  and  put  quicksilver  wrapped   in  a  piece   of 
linen  into  that  hole,  and  the   quicksilver  will  fix  and 
run  no  more,  and  endure  the  hammer.  This  is  a  noble 
instance  of  induration,  by  consent  of  one  body  with 
another,  and  motion  of  excitation  to  imitate  ;  for  to 
ascribe  it  only  to  the  vapour  of  lead,  is  less  probable. 
Query,  whether  the  fixing  may  be  in  such  a   degree, 
as  it  will  be  figured  like  other  metals?     For  if  so,  you 
may  make   works  of  it  for  some   purposes,  so   they 
come  not  near  the  fire. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  honey  and  sugar. 

848.  SUGAR  hath  put  down  the  use  of  honey,  inso- 
much as  we  have  lost  those  observations  and  prepara- 
tions of  honey  which  the  ancients  had,  when  it  was 
more  in  price.     First*  it  seemcth  that  there  was  in 
old  time  tree-honey,  as  well  as  bee-honey,  which  was 
the  tear  or  blood  issuing  from  the  tree  :  insomuch  as 
one  of  the  ancients  relateth,  that  in  Trebisond  there 
was  honey  issuing  from  the  box  trees,  which  made 
men  mad.     Again,  in  ancient  time  there  Was  a  kind 
of  honey,  which  either  of  its  own  nature  or.  by  art, 
would  grow  as  hard  as  sugar,  and  was  not  so  luscious 
as  ours.     They  had  also  a  wine  of  honey,,  which  they. 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  21 

made  thus.  They  crushed  the  honey  into  a  great 
quantity  of  water,  and  then  strained  the  liquor  :  after 
they  boiled  it  in  a  copper  to  the  half;  then  they 
poured  it  into  earthen  vessels  for  a  smalltime;  and 
after  tunned  it  into  vessels  of  wood,  and  kept  it  for 
many  years.  They  have  also  at  this  day  in  Russia  and 
those  northern  countries,  mead  simple,  which,  well 
made  and  seasoned,  is  a  good  wholesome  drink,  and 
very  clear.  They  use  also  in  Wales  a  compound 
-drink  of  mead,  with  herbs  and  spices.  But  mean 
while  it  were  good,  in  recompence  of  that  we  have 
lost  in  honey,  there  were  brought  in  use  a  sugar-mead, 
for  so  we  may  call  it,  though  without  any  mixture  at 
all  of  honey ;  and  to  brew  it,  and  keep  it  stale,  as 
they  use  mead  :  for  certainly,  though  it  would  not  be 
so  abstersive,  and  opening,  and  solutive  a  drink  as 
mead;  yet  it  \vill  be  more  .grateful  to  the  stomach, 
and  more  lenitive  and  fit  to  be  used  in  sharp  diseases: 
for  we  see,  that  the  use  of  sugar  in  beer  and  ale  hath 
good  effects  in  such  cases. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  finer  sort  of  base 


849.  IT  is  reported  by  the  ancients,  that  there  was 
a  kind  of  steel  in   some  places,  which  would  polish 
almost  as  white  and  bright  as  silver.     And  that  there 
was  in  India  a  kind  of  brass,  which,  being  polished^ 
jcould  scarce  be  discerned  from  gold.     This  was  in  the 
natural  use :   but  I  am  doubtful,  whether  men  have 
sufficiently  refined  metals,  which  we  count  base  ;  as 
whether  iron,  brass,  and  tin  be  refined  to  the  height  ? 
But  when  they  come  to  such  a  fineness,  as  serveth  the 
ordinary  use,  they  try  no  farther. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  cements  and  quarries. 

850.  THERE  have  been  found  certain  cements  un- 
der earth  that  are  very  soft ;  and  yet,  taken  forth  into 
the  sun,  harden  as  hard  as  marble:  there  are  also  or- 
dinary quarries  in  Somersetshire,  which  in  the  quarry 
cut  soft   to    any  bigness,  and   in  the  building  prove 
firm  and  hard. 

22  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX . 

Experimejit  solitary  touching  the  altering  of  the  colour 
of  hairs  and  feathers. 

851.  LIVING  creatures  generally  do   change  their 
hair  with  age,  turning  to  be  grey  and  white:  as  is 
seen   in   men,    though  some   earlier,   some  later;  in 
horses  that  are  dappled,  and  turn  white  ;  in  old  squir- 
rels that  turn  grisly  ;  and  many  others.     So  do  some 
birds;  as  cygnets  from  grey  turn  white ;  hawks  from 
brown  turn  more  white.     And  some  birds  there  be 
that  upon  their  moulting  do  turn  colour;  as  robin-red- 
breasts, after  their  moulting,  grow  to  be  red  again  by 
degrees ;  so  do  goldfinches  upon  the  head.    The  cause 
is,  for  that  moisture  doth  chiefly  colour  hair  and  fea- 
thers, and  dryness  turneth  them  grey  and  white;  now 
hair  in  age  waxeth  dryer :  so  do  feathers.     As  for  fea- 
thers, after  moulting,  they  are  young  feathers,  and  so 
all  one  as  the  feathers  of  young  birds.     So  the  beard  is 
younger  than  the  hair  of  the  head,  and  doth,  for  the 
most  part,  wax  hoary  later.     Out  of  this  ground   a 
man  may  devise  the  means  of  altering  the  colour  of 
birds,  and   the  retardation  of  hoary  hairs.     But  of 
this  see  in  the  fifth  experiment. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  differences   of  living 
creatures,  male  and  female. 

852.  THE  difference  between  male  and  female,  in 
some  creatures,  is  not  to  be  discerned,  otherwise  than 
in   the  parts  of  generation :  as  in  horses  and  mares, 
dogs  and  bitches,  doves  he  and  she,  and  others.     But 
some  differ  in  magnitude,  and  that  diversly  ;  for  in 
most  the  male  is  the  greater;  as  in  man,  pheasants, 
peacocks,  turkeys,  and  the  like :  and  in  some  few,  as 
in  hawks,  the  female.     Some   differ  in   the  hair  and 
feathers,  both  in  the  quantity,  crispation,  and  colours 
ot  them  ;    as  he-lions  are    hirsute,    and    have    great 
manes  :  the  she-lions  are  smooth  like  cats.    Bulls  are, 
more  crisp  upon  the  forehead  than  cows ;    the  pea- 
cock, and  pheasant-cock,  and  goldfinch-cock,  have 
glorious  and  fine  colours  ;  the  hens  have  not.    Gene- 
rally the  males  in  birds  have  the  fairest  feathers    Some 
differ  in  divers   features :  as  bucks  have  horns,  does 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  23 

none ;    rams  have  more  wreathed  horns  than  ewes  ; 
cocks  have  great  combs  and  spurs,  hens  little  or  none ; 
boars  have  great  fangs,  sows  much  less;  the  turkey* 
cock  hath  great  and  swelling  gills,  the  hen  hath  less; 
men  have  generally  deeper  and  stronger  voices  than 
women.  Some  differ  in  faculty ;  as  the  cocks  amongst 
singing-birds  are  the  best  singers.    The  chief  cause  of 
all  these,  no  doubt,  is,  for  that  the  males  have  more 
strength  of  heat  than  the  females;  which  appeareth 
manifestly  in  this,  that  all  young  creatures  males  are 
Jike  females  ;  and  so  are  eunuchs,  and  gelt  creatures 
of  all  kinds,  liker  females.     Now  heat  causeth  great- 
ness  of  growth,  generally,  where  there  is  moisture 
enough  to  work  upon  :  but  if  there  be  found  in  any 
creature,  which  is  seen  rarely,  an  over-great  heat  in 
proportion  to  the  moisture,  in  them  the  female  is  the 
greater ;  as  in  hawks  and  sparrows.    And  if  the  heat 
be  balanced  with  the  moisture,  then  there  is  no  dif- 
ference to  be  seen  between  male  and  female  ;  as  in 
the  instances  of  horses  and  dogs.     We  see  also,  that 
the  horns  of  oxen  and  cows,  for  the  most  part,  are 
larger  than  the  bulls  ;  which  is  caused  by  abundance 
of  moisture,  which  in  the  horns  of  the  bull  faileth. 
Again,  heat  causeth  pilosity  and  crispation,  and  so 
likewise    beards    in    men.      It    also    expelleth    finer 
moisture,  which  want  of  heat  cannot  expel ;  and  that 
is  the  cause   of  the  beauty  and  variety  of  feathers. 
Again,  heat  doth  put  forth  many  excrescences,  and 
much  solid  matter,  which  want  of  heat  cannot  do  : 
and  this  is  the  cause  of  horns,  and  of  the  greatness  of 
them  :  and  of  the  greatness  of  the  combs  and  spurs  of 
cocks,  gills  of  turkey-cocks,  and  fangs  of  boars.   Heat 
also  dilateth  the  pipes  and  organs,  which  causeth  the 
deepness  of  the  voice.  Again,  heat  refineth  the  spirits, 
and   that   causeth   the    cock    singing-bird   to   excel 
the  hen. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  comparative  magnitude 
of  living  creatures. 

853.  THERE  be  fishes  greater  than  any  beasts;  as 
the  whale  is  far  greater  than  the  elephant :  and  beasts 

24  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX, 

are  generally  greater  than  birds.  For  fishes,  the  cause 
may  be,  that  because  they  live  not  in  the  air,  they 
have  not  their  moisture  drawn  and  sucked  by  the  air 
and  sun-beams.  Also  they  rest  always  in  a  manner, 
and  are  supported  by  the  water;  whereas  motion  and 
labour  do  consume.  As  for  the  greatness  of  beasts 
more  than  of  birds,  it  is  caused,  for  that  beasts  stay 
longer  time  in  the  womb  than  birds,  and  there  nourish 
and  grow ;  whereas  in  birds,  after  the  egg  laid,  there 
is  no  further  growth  or  nourishment  from  the  female  $ 
for  the  setting  doth  vivify,  and  not  nourish. 

'Experiment  solitary  touching  exossation  of  fruits. 

854.  WE  have  partly  touched  before  the  means  of 
producing  fruits  without  cores  or  stones.    And  this 
we  add  farther,  that  the  cause  must  be  abundance  of 
moisture ;  for  that   the  core  and  stone  are  made  of 
a  dry  sap :  and  we  see,  that  it  is  possible  to  make  a 
tree  put  forth  only  in  blossom,  without  fruit ;   as  in 
cherries  with  double  flowers ;  much  more  into  fruit 
without  stone  or  cores.     It  is  reported,  that  a  cion  of 
an  apple,  grafted  upon  a  colewort  stalk,  sendeth  forth 
a  great  apple  without  a  core.    It  is  not  unlikely,  that 
if  the  inward  pith  of  a  tree  were  taken  out,  so  that 
the  juice  came  only  by  the  bark,  it  would  work  the 
effect.    For  it  hath  been  observed,  that  in  pollards,  if 
the  water  get  in  on  the  top,  and  they  become  hollow, 
they  put  forth  the  more.     We  add  also,  that  it  is  der 
livered  for  certain  by  some,  that  if  the  cion  be  grafted 
the   small  end  downwards,  it  will  make  fruit  have 
little  or  no  cores  and  stones. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  melioration  of  tobacco < 

855.  TOBACCO  is  a  thing  of  great  price,  if  it  be  in 
request  :  for  an  acre  of  it  will  be  worth,  as  is  affirmed, 
two  hundred  pounds   by  the    year  towards  charge. 
The  charge  of  making  the  ground  and  otherwise  is 
great,  but  nothing  to  the  profit ;  but  the  English  to- 
bacco hath  small  credit,  as  being  too  dull  and  earthy  : 
nay,  the  Virginian  tobacco,  though  that  be  in  a  hotter 
climate,  can  get  no  credit  for  the  same  case :  so  that 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  25 

a  trial  to  make  tobacco  more  aromatical,  and  better 
concocted,  here  in  England,  were  a  thing  of  great 
profit.  Some  have  gone  about  to  do  it  by  drenching 
the  English  tobacco  in  a  decoction  or  infusion  of 
Indian  tobacco  :  but  those  are  but  sophistications  and 
toys;  for  nothing  that  is  once  perfect,  and  hath  run 
its  race,  can  receive  much  amendment,  You  must 
ever  resort  to  the  beginnings  of  things  for  melioration. 
The  way  of  maturation  of  tobacco  must,  as  in  other 
plants,  be  from  the  heat  either  of  the  earth  or  of  the 
sun:  we  see  some  leading  of  this  in  musk-melons, 
which  are  sown  upon  a  hot  bed  dunged  below,  upon  a 
bank  turned  upon  the  south  sun,  to  give  heat  by  re- 
flection ;  laid  upon  tiles,  which  increaseth  the  heat, 
and  covered  with  straw  to  keep  them  from  cold. 
They  remove  them  also,  which  addeth  some  life  :  and 
by  these  helps  they  become  as  good  in  England,  as  in 
Italy  or  Provence.  These,  and  the  like  means,  may 
be  tried  in  tobacco.  Inquire  also  of  the  steeping  of 
the  roots  in  some  such  liquor  as  may  give  them 
vigour  to  put  forth  strong. 

Experiment  solitary   touching    several  heats   working 
the  same  effects. 

856.  HEAT  of  the  sun  for  the  maturation  of  fruits  ; 
yea,  and  the  heat  of  vivification  of  living  creatures, 
are  both  represented  and  supplied  by  the  heat  of  fire  ; 
and  likewise  the  heats  of  the  sun,  and  life,  are  re- 
presented one  by  the  other.  Trees  set  upon  the  backs 
of  chimneys  do  ripen  fruit  sooner.  Vines,  that  have 
been  drawn  in  at  the  window  of  a  kitchen,  have  sent 
forth  grapes  ripe  a  month  at  least  before  others. 
Stoves  at  the  back  of  walls  bring  forth  oranges  here 
with  us.  Eggs,  as  is  reported  by  some,  have  been 
hatched  in  the  warmth  of  an  oven.  It  is  reported  by 
the  ancients,  that  the  ostrich  layeth  her  eggs  under 
sand,  where  the  heat  of  the  sun  discloseth  them. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  szvelling  and  dilatation  in 


857.  BARLEY   in  the  boiling  swelleth  not  much; 
wheat  swelleth  morej  rice  extremely  ;  insomuch  as  a 

2.6  Natural  History.  [Gent.  IX . 

quarter  of  a  pint  unboiled,  will  arise  to  a  pint  boiled. 
The  cause  no  doubt  is,  for  that  the  more  close  and 
compact  the  body  is,  the  more  it  will  dilate :  now 
barley  is  the  most  hollow;  wheat  more  solid  than 
that;  and  rice  most  solid  of  all.  It  may  be  also  that 
some  bodies  have  a  kind  of  lentour,  and  more  de- 
pertible  nature  than  others;  as  we  see  it  evident  in 
coloration;  for  a  small  quantity  of  saffron  will  tinc- 
ture more  than  a  very  great  quantity  of  brasil  or 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  dulcoratlon  of  fruits. 

858.  FRUIT  groweth  sweet  by  rolling,  or  pressing 
them    gently  with  the  hand;    as  rolling  pears,    da* 
mascenes,   etc.    by   rottenness,   as  medlars,  services, 
sloes,  hips,  etc.  by  time ;  as  apples,  wardens,  pome- 
granates, etc.  by  certain  special  maturations ;  as  by 
laying  them    in  hay,   straw,  etc.  and   by  fire ;  as  in 
roasting,  stewing,  baking,    etc.     The   cause   of  the 
sweetness  by  rolling  and  pressing  is  emollition,  which 
they   properly  induce  ;   as  in  beating  of  stock-fish, 
flesh,  etc.  by  rottenness  is,  for  that  the  spirits  of  the 
fruit  by  putrefaction   gather  heat,  and  thereby  digest 
the  harder  part,  for  in  all  putrefactions  there  is  a  de- 
gree of  heat:  by  time  and   keeping  is,  because  the 
spirits  of  the  body  do  ever  feed  upon   the  tangible 
parts,  and  attenuate  them:  by  several  maturations  is, 
by  some  degree  of  heat :  and  by  fire  is,  because  it  is 
the  proper  work  of  heat  to  refine  and  to  incorporate ; 
and  all  sourness    consisteth  in    some  grossness  of  the 
body;  and  all  incorporation  doth  jnake  the  mixture 
of  the  body  more  equal  in  all  the  parts  s  whichever 
induceth  a  milder  taste. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  flesh  edible,  and  not  edible. 

859.  OF  fleshes,  some   are  edible;   some,  except 
it  be  in  famine,  not.     For  those  that  are  not  edible, 
the  cause  is,  for  that  they  have  commonly  too  much 
bitterness  of  taste  ;  and  therefore  those  creatures  which 
are  fierce  and  choleric  are  not  edible;  as  lions,  wolves, 
squirrels,  dogs,  foxes,  horses,  etc.     As  for  kine,  sheep, 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  27 

goats,  deer,  swine,  conies,  hares,  etc.  we  see  theyare 
mild  and  fearful.  Yet  it  is  true,  that  horses,  which 
are  beasts  of  courage,  have  been,  and  are  eaten  by 
some  nations;  as,  the  Scythians  were  called  Hippo- 
phagi ;  and  the  Chinese  eat  horse-flesh  at  this  day  ; 
and  some  gluttons  have  used  to  have  colts-flesh 
baked.  In  birds,  such  as  are  carnivore,  and  birds  of 
prey,  are  commonly  no  good  meat ;  but  the  reason  is, 
rather  the  choleric  nature  of  those  birds,  than  their 
feeding  upon  flesh:  for  pewets,  gulls,  shovellers, 
ducks,  do  feed  upon  flesh,  and  yet  are  good  meat. 
And  we  see  that  those  birds  which  are  of  prey,  or  feed 
upon  flesh,  are  good  meat  when  they  are  very  young; 
as  hawks,  rooks  out  of  the  nest,  owls,  etc.  Man's 
flesh  is  not  eaten.  The  reasons  are  three:  first,  be- 
cause men  in  humanity  do  abhor  it:  secondly,  because 
no  living  creature  that  dieth  of  itself  is  good  to  eat: 
and  therefore  the  cannibals  themselves  cat  no  man's 
flesh  of  those  that  die  of  themselves,  but  of  such  as 
are  slain.  The  third  is,  because  there  must  be  gene- 
rally some  disparity  between  the  nourishment  and  the 
body  nourished :  and  they  must  not  be  over-near,  or  like : 
yet  we  see,  that  in  great  weaknesses  and  consump- 
tions, men  have  been  sustained  with  woman's  milk : 
and  Ficinus,  fondly  as  I  conceive,  adviseth,  for  the 
prolongation  of  life,  that  a  vein  be  opened  in  the  arm 
of  some  wholesome  young  man,  and  the  blood  to  be 
sucked.  It  is  said  that  witches  do  greedily  eat  man's 
flesh  y  which  if  it  be  true,  besides  a  devilish  appetite 
in  them,  it  is  likely  to  proceed,  for  that  man's  flesh 
may  send  up  high  and  pleasing  vapours,  which  may 
stir  the  imagination;  and  witches  felicity  is  chiefly  in 
imagination,  as  hath  been  said. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  salamander. 

860.  THERE  is  an  ancient  received  tradition  of  the 
salamander,  that  it  liveth  in  the  fire,  and  hath  force 
also  to  extinguish  it.  It  must  have  two  things,  if  it 
be  true,  to  this  operation:  the  one  a  very  close  skin, 
whereby  flame,  which  in  the  midst  is  not  so  hot,  can- 
not enter  3  for  we  see  that  if  the  palm  of  the  hand  be 

28  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

anointed  thick  with  white  of  egg,  and  then  aqua-vita 
be  poured  upon  it,  and  inflamed,  yet  one  may  endure 
the  flarne  a  pretty  while.  The  other  is  some  extreme 
cold  and  quenching  virtue  in  the  body  of  that  crea- 
ture, which  choketh  the  fire.  We  see  that  milk 
quencheth  wild-fire  better  than  water,  because  it  en- 
treth  better. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  contrary  operations  of 
time  upon  fruits  and  liquors, 

861.  TIME   doth   change   fruit,    as   apples,   pears, 
pomegranates,  etc.  from  more  sour  to  more  sweet:  but 
contrariwise  liquors,  even  those  that  are  of  the  juice 
of  fruit,  from  more  sweet  to  more  sour  :  as  wort,  must, 
new  verjuice,  ttc.     The  cause  is,  the  congregation  of 
the  spirits  together :  for  in  both  kinds  the  spirit  is  at- 
tenuated by  time;  but  in  the  first  kind  it  is  more  dif- 
fused, and  more  mastered  by  the  grosser  parts,  which 
the  spirits  do  but  digest :  but  in  drinks  the  spirits  do 
reign,  and  finding  less  opposition  of  the  parts,  become 
themselves  more    strong ;   which  causeth   also  more   f 
strength  in  the  liquor;  such  as  if  the  spirits  be  of  the 
hotter  sort,  the  liquor  becometh  apt  to  burn  :  but  in 
time,  it  causeth  likewise,  when  the  higher  spirits  are 
evaporated,  more  sourness. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  blows  and  bruises. 

862.  IT  hath  been  observed  by  the  ancients,   that 
plates  of  metal,   and  especially  of  brass,  applied  pre- 
sently to  a  blow,  will  keep  it  down  from  swelling, 
the  cause  is  repercussion,  without  humectation  or  en- 
trance of  any  body:  for  the  plate  hath  only  a  virtual 
cold,  which  doth  not  search  into  the  hurt ;  whereas 
all  plaisters  and  ointments  do  enter.  Surely,  the  cause 
that  blows  and  bruises  induce  swellings  is,  for  that 
the  spirits  resorting  to  succour  the  part  that  laboureth, 
draw  also  the  humours  with  them:  for  wre  see,  that  it  is 
not  the    repulse  and  the  return  of  the  humour  in  the 
part   strucken    that  causeth   it ;  for  that   gouts  and 
tooth-aches  cause  swelling,  where  there  is  no  per- 
cussion at  all. 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History. . 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  orrice  ro'ot. 

863.  Tn^nature  of  the  orrice  root  is  almost  singu- 
lar; for  there  he  few  odoriferous  roots:  and  in  those: 
that  are  in  any  degree  sweet,  it  is  but  the  same  sweet- 
ness with  the  wood  or  leaf:  but  the  orrice  is  not 
sweet  in  the  leaf;  neither  is  the  flower  any  thing  so 
sweet  as  the  root.  The  root  seemeth  to  have  a  ten- 
der dainty  heat;  which  when  itcometh  above  ground 
to  the  sun  and  the  air,  vanisheth  :  for  it  is  a  great  mol- 
lifier:  and  hath  a  smell  like  a  violet. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  compression  of  liquors* 

861'.  IT  hath  been  observed  by  the  ancients,  that  a 
great  vessel  full,  drawn  into  bottles,  and  then  the  li- 
quor put  again  into  the  vessel,  will  not  fill  the  vessel 
again  so  full  as  it  was,  but  that  it  may  take  in  more 
liquor :  and  that  this  holdeth  more  in  wine  than  in 
water.  The  cause  may  be  trivial ;  namely,  by  the. 
expence  of  the  liquor,  in  regard  some  may  stick  to 
the  sides  of  the  bottles :  but  there  may  be  a  cause 
more  subtile  :  which  is,  that  the  liquor  in  the  vessel 
is  not  so  much  compressed  as  in  the  bottle;  because 
in  the  vessel  the  liquor  meeteth  with  liquor  chiefly  ; 
but  in  the  bottles  a  small  quantity  of  liquor  meeteth 
with  the  sides  of  the  bottles,  which  compress  it  so 
that  it  doth  not  open  again. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  working  of  water  upon 
air  contiguous. 

865.  WATER,  being  contiguous  with  air,  cooleth 
it,  but  moisteneth  it  not,  except  it  vapour.  The 
cause  is,  for  that  heat  and  cold  have  a  virtual  transi- 
tion, without  communication  of  substance;  but  mois- 
ture not  :  and  to  all  madefaction  there  is  required  an 
imbibition  :  but  where  the  bodies  are  of  such  several 
levity  and  gravity  as  they  mingle  not,  there  can  fol- 
low no  imbibition.  And  therefore,  oil  likewise  lieth 
at  the  top  of  the  water,  without  commixture:  and  a 
drop  of  water  running  swiftly  over  a  straw  or  smooth 
body,  wetteth  not. 

SO  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  nature  of  air. 

866.  STAR-LIGHT   nights,  yea  and    bright    moon- 
shine   nights,    are   colder   than  cloudy  nights.     The 
cause  is,  the  dryness  and   fineness  of  the  air,  which 
thereby  becorneth  more    piercing    and    sharp ;    and 
therefore  great  continents  are  colder  than  islands:  and 
as  for  the  moon,  though  itself  inclineth  the  air  to  mois- 
ture, yet  when  it  shineth  bright  itargueth  the  air  is  dry. 
Also  close  air  is  warmer  than  open  air;  which,  it  may 
be,  is,  for  that  the  true  cause  of  cold  is  an  expiration 
from  the  globe  of  the  earth,   which  in  open  places 
is  stronger ;  and  again,  air  itself,  if  it  be  not  altered 
by  that  expiration,  is  not  without  some  secret  degree 
of  heat;  as  it  is  not  likewise  without  some  secret  de- 
gree of  light:  for  otherwise  cats  and  owls  could  not 
see  in  the  night ;  but  that  air  hath  a  little  light,  pro- 
portionable to  the  visual  spirits  of  those  creatures. 

Experiments  in  consort    touching    the  eyes  and  sight. 

867.  THE  eyes  do  move  one  and  the  same  way;  for 
•when  one  eye  moveth  to  the  nostril,  the  other  moveth 
from  the  nostril.     The  cause    is  motion  of  consent, 
which  in  the  spirits  and  parts  spiritual  is  strong.    But 
yet  use  will  induce  the  contrary  ;  for  some  can  squint 
when  they  will  :  and  tie  common  tradition  is,  that  if 
children    be  set  upon   a  table  with  a  candle  behind 
them,  both  eyes  will  move  outwards,  as  affecting  to 
see  the  light,  and  so  induce  squinting. 

868.  WE  see  more  exquisitely  with  one  eye  shut, 
than  with  both  open.    The  cause  is,  for  that  the  spirits 
visual  unite  themselves  more,  and  so  become  stronger. 
For  you  may  see,  by  looking  in  a  glass,  that  when  you 
shut  one  eye,  the  pupil  of  the  other  eye  that  is  open 

869.  THE  eyes,  if  the  sight  meet  not  in  one  angle, 
see  things  double.     The  cause  is,  for  that  seeing  two 
things,  and  seeing  one   thing  twice,    worketh    the 
same  effect :  and  therefore  a  little  pellet  held  between 
two  fingers  laid  across,  seemeth  double. 

870.  PORE-BLIND  men  see  best  in  the  dimmer  lights; 
and  likewise  have  their  sight  stronger  near  hand, 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  31 

than  those  that  are  not  pore-blind  ;  and  can  read  and 
write  smaller  letters.  The  cause  is,  for  that  the  spi- 
rits visual  in  those  that  are  pore-blind,  are  thinner  and 
rarer  than  in  others ;  and  therefore  the  greater  light 
disperseth  them.  For  the  same  cause  they  need  con- 
tracting ;  but  being  contracted,  are  more  strong  than 
the  visual  spirits  of  ordinary  eyes  are  ;  as  when  we  see 
through  a  level,  the  sight  is  the  stronger ;  and  so  is 
it  when  you  gather  the  eye-lids  somewhat  close  :  and 
it  is  commonly  seen  in  those  that  are  pore-blind,  that 
they  do  much  gather  the  eye-lids  together.  But  old 
men,  when  they  would  see  to  read,  put  the  paper 
somewhat  afar  off:  the  cause  is,  for  that  old  mens  spi- 
rits visual,  contrary  to  those  of  pore-blind  men,  unite 
not,  but  when  the  object  is  at  some  good  distance 
from  their  eyes. 

871.  MEN  see  better,  when  their  eyes  are  over- 
against  the  sun  or  a  candle,  if  they  put  their  hand  a 
little  before  their  eye.  The  reason  is,  for  that  the 
glaring  of  the  sun  or  the  candle  doth  weaken  the  eye  ; 
whereas  the  light  circumfused  is  enough  for  the  per- 
ception. For  we  see  that  an  over-light  maketh  the 
eyes  dazzle ;  insomuch  as  perpetual  looking  against 
the  sun  would  cause  blindness.  Again,  if  men  come 
out  of  a  great  light  into  a  dark  room ;  and  contrari- 
wise, if  they  come  out  of  a  dark  room  into  a  light 
room,  they  seem  to  have  a  mist  before  their  eyes,  and 
see  worse  than  they  shall  do  after  they  have  stayed  a 
little  while,  either  in  the  light  'or  in  the  dark.  The 
cause  is,  for  that  the  spirits  visual  are,  upon  a  sudden 
change,  disturbed  and  put  out  of  order  ;  and  till  they 
be  recollected,  do  not  perform  their  function^  well. 
For  when  they  are  much  dilated  by  light,  they  cannot 
contract  suddenly  ;  and  when  they  are  much  con- 
tracted by  darkness,  they  cannot  dilate  suddenly.  And 
excess  of  both  these,  that  is,  of  the  dilatation  and 
contraction  of  the  spirits  visual,  if  it  be  long,  destroy- 
eth  the  eye.  For  as  long  looking  against  the  sun  or 
fire  hurteth  the  eye  by  dilatation  ;  so  curious  painting 
in  small  volumes,  and  reading  of  small  letters,  do 
hurt  the  eye  by  contraction. 

32  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

8712.  Ir  hath  been  observed,  that  in  anger  the  eyes 
wax  red  ;  and  in  blushing,  not  the  eyes,  but  the  ears, 
and  the  parts  behind  them.  The  cause  is,  for  that  in 
anger  the  spirits  ascend  and  wax  eager  ;  which  is  most 
easily  seen  in  the  eyes,  because  they  are  translucid; 
though  withal  it  maketh  both  the  cheeks  and  the  gills 
red  ;  but  in  blushing,  it  is  true  the  spirits  ascend 
likewise  to  succour  both  the  eyes  and  the  face,  which 
are  the  parts  that  labour  :  but  then  they  are  repulsed 
by  the  eyes,  for  that  the  eyes,  in  shame,  do  put  back 
the  spirits  that  ascend  to  them,  as  unwilling  to  look 
abroad  :  for  no  man  in  that  passion  doth  look  strongly, 
but  dejectedly ;  and  that  repulsion  from  the  eyes  di- 
verteth  the  spirits  and  heat  more  to  the  ears,  and  the 
parts  by  them. 

873.  THE  objects  of  the  sight  may  cause  a  great 
pleasure  and  delight  in  the    spirits,  but  no    pain  of 
great   offence  ;    except  it    be    by  memory,  as   hath 
been  said.    The  glimpses  and  beams  of  diamonds  that 
strike  the  eye;  Indian  feathers,  that  have  glorious  co- 
lours ;    the  coming  into  a  fair  garden  ;  the  coming 
into  a  fair  room  richly  furnished  ;  a  beautiful  person  ; 
and  the  like  ;  do  delight  and   exhilarate   the  spirits 
much.     The  reason  why  it  holdeth  not  in  the  offence 
is,  for  that  the  sight  is  the  most  spiritual  of  the  senses ; 
whereby  it  hath  no  object  gross  enough  to  offend  it* 
But  the  cause  chiefly  is,  for  that  there  be  no   active 
objects   to  offend  the  eye.     For  harmonical  sounds, 
and  discordant  sounds,  are  both  active  and  positive : 
so  are  sweet  smells  and  stinks :    so  are  bitter  and  sweet 
in  tastes:  so  are  over-hot  and  over-cold  in  touch  ;  but 
blackness  and  darkness  are  indeed  but  privatives ;  and 
therefore  have  little  or  no  activity.     Somewhat  they 
do  contristate,  but  very  little. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  colour  of  the  sea, 
or  other  water. 

874.  WATER  of   the    sea,   or  otherwise,    looketh 
blacker  when  it  is  moved,  and  whiter  when  it  resteth. 
The  cause  is,  for  that  by  means  of  the  motion,  the 
beams  of  light  pass  not  straight,  and  therefore  must  be 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  33 

darkened ;  whereas,  when  it  resteth,  the  beams  do 
pass  straight.  Besides,  splendour  hath  a  degree  of 
whiteness;  especially  if  there  be  a  little  repercussion: 
for  a  looking-glass  with  the  steel  behind,  looketh 
whiter  than  glass  simple.  This  experiment  deserveth 
to  be  driven  farther,  in  trying  by  what  means  motion 
may  hinder  sight. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  shell-fish. 

875.  SHELL-FISH  have  been,  by  some  of  the  ancients, 
compared  and  sorted  with  the  insecta  >  but  I  see  no 
reason  why  they  should  ;  for  they  have  male  and  fe- 
male as  other  fish  have  :  neither  are  they  bred  of  pu- 
trefaction ;  especially  such  as   do  move.     Neverthe- 
less it  is  certain,  that  oisters,  and  cockles,  and  mussels, 
which   move  not,  have  no  discriminate  sex,   Query, m 
what  time,  and  how  they  are  bred  ?     It  seemeth,  that 
shells  of  oisters  are  bred   where  none  were   before ; 
and  it  is  tried,  that  the  great  horse-mussel,  with  the 
fine  shell,  that  breedeth  in   ponds,  hath  bred  within 
thirty  years  :  but  then,  which  is  strange,  it  hath  been 
tried,  that  they  do  not  only  gape    and   shut  as  the 
oisters  do,  but  remove  from  one  place  to  another. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  right  side  and  the  left. 

876.  THE  senses  are  alike  strong,  both  on  the  right 
side  and  on  the  left ;  but  the  limbs  on  the  right  side  are 
stronger.  The  cause  may  be,  for  that  the  brain,  which 
is  the  instrument  of  sense,  is  alike  on  both  sides ;  but 
motion,  and  abilities  of  moving,  are  somewhat  holpen 
from  the  liver,  which  lieth  on  the  right  side.     It  may 
be  also,  for  that  the  senses  are  put  in  exercise  indiffe- 
rently on  both  sides  from  the  time  of  our  birth;   but 
the  limbs  are  used  most  on   the  right  side,  whereby 
custom  helpeth  ;  for  we  see  that  some  are  left-handed ; 
which  are  such  as  have  used  the  left  hand  most. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  frictions. 

877.  FRICTIONS  make  the  parts   more  fleshy  and 
full ;  as  we  see  both  in  men,  and  in  currying  of  horses, 
etc.     The  cause  is,  for  that  they  draw  greater  quantity 

VOL.  ii.  D 

Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

of  spirits  and  blood  to  the  parts:  and  again,  because 
they  draw  the  aliment  more  forcibly  from  within  : 
and  again,  because  they  relax  the  pores,  and  so  make 
better  passage  for  the  spirits,  blood,  and  aliment  : 
lastly,  because  they  dissipate  and  digest  any  inutile  or 
excrementitious  moisture  which  lieth  in  the  flesh  ;  all 
which  help  assimilation.  Frictions  also  do  more  fill 
and  impinguate  the  body,  than  exercise.  The  cause 
is,  for  that  in  frictions  the  inward  parts  are  at  rest  ; 
which  in  exercise  are  beaten,  many  times,  too  much  ; 
and  for  the  same  reason,  as  we  have  noted  heretofore, 
galley-slaves  are  fat  and  fleshy,  because  they  stir  the 
Jimbs  more,  and  the  inward  parts  less. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  globes  appearing  Jlat  at 


878.  ALL  globes  afar  off  appear  flat.     The   cause 
is,  for  that  distance,  being  a  secondary  object  of  sight, 
is  not  otherwise  discerned,  than  by  more  or  less  light  ; 
which    disparity,   when  it  cannot  be    discerned,  all 
seemeth  one  :  as  it  is,  generally,  in  objects  not  dis- 
tinctly discerned  ;  for  so  letters,  if  they  be  so  far  off 
as  they  cannot  be  discerned,  shew  but  as  a  duskish 
paper  :  and  all   engravings  and  embossings,  afar  of, 
appear  plain. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  shadows. 

879.  THE  uttermost  parts  of  shadows  seem  ever  to 
tremble.  The  cause  is,  for  that  the  little  motes  which 
we   see   in  the    sun  do    ever  stir,  though  there  be 
no  wind  ;  and  therefore  those  moving,  in  the  meeting 
of  the  light   and   the  shadow,  from  the  light  to  the 
shadow,  and  from  the  shadow  to  the  light,  do  shew 
the  shadow  to  move,  because  the  medium  moveth. 

solitary  touching  the  rolling  and  break  i?ig 
of  the  seas. 

880.  SHALLOW  and  narrow  seas  break  more  than 
deep  and  large.  The  cause  is,  tor  that  the  impulsion 
being  the  same  in  both,  where  there  is  greater  quan- 
tity -of  water,  and  likewise  space  enough,  there  the: 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History. 

water  rolleth  and  moveth,  both  more  slowly,  and 
with  a  sloper  rise  and  fall :  but  where  there  is  less 
water,  and  less  space,  and  the  w?.ter  dasheth  more 
against  the  bottom,  there  it  moveth  more  swiftly,  and 
more  in  precipice  ;  for  in  the  breaking  of  the  waves 
there  is  ever  a  precipice. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  dulcoration  of  salt 


881.  IT  hath  been  observed  by  the  ancients,  that 
salt   water   boiled,    or   boiled    and    cooled  again,  is 
more  potable,  than  of  itself  raw:  and  yet  the  taste  of 
salt  in  distillations  by  fire  riseth  not,  for  the  distilled 
water  will  be  fresh.     The  cause  may  be,  for  that  the 
salt  part  of  the  water  doth  partly  rise  into  a  kind  of 
scum  on  the  top,  and  partly  goeth  into  a  sediment  in 
the  bottom  ;  and  so  is  rather  a  separation  than  an  eva- 
poration.    But  it  is  too  gross  to  rise  into  a  vapour ; 
and  so  is  a   bitter  taste  likewise ;  for  simple  distilled 
waters,  of  wormwood,  and  the  like,  are  not  bitter. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  return  of  saltncss  in 
pits  upon  the  sea-shore. 

882.  IT  hath  been  set  down  before,  that  pits  upon 
the  sea-shore  turn  into  fresh  water,  by  percolation  of 
the  salt  through  the  sand  :  but  it  is  farther  noted,  by 
some  of  the  ancients,  that  in  some  places  of  Africa, 
after  a  time,  the  water  in  such  pits  will  become  brack- 
ish again.     The  cause   is,  for   that  after  a  time,  the 
very  sands  through  which  the  salt  water  passeth,  be- 
come salt  ;  and  so  the  strainer  itself  is  tinctured  with 
salt.     The  remedy  therefore  is,  to  dig  still  new  pits, 
when  the  old  wax  brackish  j  as  if  you  would  change 
your  strainer. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  attraction  by  similitude 
of  substance. 

883.  IT  hath  been  observed  by  the  ancients,  that 
salt  water  will  dissolve  salt  put  into   it,  in   less  time 
than  fresh  water  will  dissolve  it.     The  cause  may  be, 
for  that  the  salt  in  the  precedent  water  doth,  by  simi- 


36  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

litude  of  substance,  draw  the  salt  new  put  in  unto  it ; 
whereby  it  diffuse th  in  the  liquor  more  speedily.  This 
is  a  noble  experiment,  if  it  be  true,  for  it  sheweth 
means  of  more  quick  and  easy  infusions;  and  it  is  like- 
wise a  good  instance  of  attraction  by  similitude  of  sub- 
stance. Try  it  with  sugar  put  into  water  formerly 
sugared,  and  into  other  water  unsugared. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  attraction. 

884.  Pur  sugar  into^  wine,  part  of  it  above,  part 
under  the  wine,  and  you  shall  find,  that  which  may 
seem   strange,  that  the  sugar  above  the   wine    will 
soften  and  dissolve  sooner  than  that  within  the  wine. 
The  cause  is,  for  that  the  wine  entereth  that  part  of 
the  sugar  which  is  under  the  wine,  by  simple  infusion 
or  spreading  ;  but  that  part  above  the  wine  is  likewise 
forced  by  sucking ;  for  all  spongy  bodies  expel  the  air 
and  draw  in  liquor,  if  it  be  contiguous  :  as  we  see  it 
also  in  sponges  put  part  above  the  water.     It  is  wor- 
thy the  inquiry,  to  see  how  you  may  make  more  ac- 
curate infusions,  by  help  of  attraction. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  heat  under  earth. 

885.  WATER  in  wells  is  warmer  in  winter  than  in 
summer  ;  and  so  is  air  in  caves.  The  cayse  is,  for  that 
in  the  hither  parts,  under  the  earth,  there  is  a  degree 
of  some  heat,  as  appeareth  in  sulphureous  veins,  etc. 
which  shut  close  in,  as  in  winter,  is  the  more  ;  but  if 
it  perspire,  as  it  doth  in  summer,  it  is  the  less. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  flying  in  the  air. 

886.  IT  is  reported,  that  amongst  the  Leiicadians, 
in  ancient  time,  upon  a  superstition  they  did  use  to 
precipitate  a  man  from  a  high  cliff  into  the  sea;  tying 
about  him  with  strings,  at  some  distance,  many  great 
fowls ;  and  fixing  unlo  his  body  divers  feathers,  spread 
to  break  the  fall.   Certainly  many  birds  of  good  wing, 
as  kites,  and  the  like,  would  bear  up  a  good  weight 
as  they  fly ;  and  spreading  of  feathers  thin  and  close, 
and  in  great  breadth,  will  likewise  bear  up  a  great 
weight,  being  even   laid,  without  tilting  upon    the 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  37 

sides.     The  farther  extension  of  this  experiment  for 
flying  may  be  thought  upon. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  dye  of  scarlet. 

887.  THERE  is  in  some  places,  namely  in  Cepha- 
lonia,  a  little  shrub  which    they  call  holly-oak,     or 
dwarf-oak :  upon    the    leaves  thereof  there    riseth  a 
tumour  like  a  blister ;  which  they  gather,  and  rub  out 
of  it  a  certain  red  dust,  that  converteth,  after  a  while, 
into  worms,  which  they  kill  with  wine,  as  is  reported, 
when  they  begin  to  quicken  ;  with  this  dust  they  dye 

Experiment  solitary  touching  maleficiating. 

888.  IN  Zant  it  is  very  ordinary  to  make  men  impo- 
tent to  accompany  with  their  wives.  The  like  is  prac- 
tised in  Gascony  ;  where  it  is  called  nouer  Veguillette. 
It  is  practised  always  upon  the  wedding  day.     And 
in  Zant  the  mothers  themselves  do  it,  by  way  of  pre- 
vention -,  because  thereby  they  hinder  other  charms, 
and  can  undo  their  own.     It  is  a  thing  the  civil  law 
taketh  knowledge  of;  and   therefore    is   of  no  light 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  rise  of  water  by  means 

of  flame. 

889.  IT  is  a  common  experiment,  but  the  cause  is 
mistaken.     Take  a   pot,  pr  better   a    glass,  because 
therein  you  may  see  the    motion,  and  set   a  candle 
lighted  in  the  bottom  of  a  bason  of  water,  and  turn 
the  mouth  of  the  pot  or  glass  over  the   candle,  and  it 
will  make  the  water  rise.  They  ascribe  it  to  the  draw- 
ing of  heat;  which  is  not  true:  for  it  appeareth  plainly 
to  be  but  a  motion  of  nexe,  which   they  call  ne  de- 
tur  vacuum  i  and  it  proceedeth   thus.     The   flame  of 
the  candle,  as  soon  as  it  is  covered,  being  suffocated 
by  the  close  air,  lesseneth  by  little  and  little  ;  during 
which  time  there  is  some  little  ascent  of  wrater,  but  not 
much  :  for  the  flame  occupying  less  and  less  room,  as 
it  lesseneth,  the  water  succeecleth.      But  upon  the  in- 
stant ot  the  candle's  going  out,  there  is  a  sudden  rise 
ot  a  great  deal  of  water  ;    for   that  the  body   of  the 

38  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

flame  filleth  no  more  place,  and  so  the  air  and  the 
water  succeed.  It  worketll  the  same  effect,  if  instead 
of  water  you  put  flour  or  sand  into  the  bason  :  which 
sheweth,  that  it  is  not  the  flame's  drawing  the  liquor 
as  nourishment,  as  it  is  supposed  ;  for  all  bodies  are 
alike  unto  it,  as  it  is  ever  in  motion  of  nexe  ;  insomuch 
as  I  have  seen  the  glass,  being  held  by  the  hand,  hath 
lifted  up  the  bason  and  all  ;  the  motion  of  nexe  did 
so  clasp  the  bottom  of  the  bason.  That  experiment, 
when  the  bason  was  lifted  up,  was  made  with  oil,  and 
not  with  water:  nevertheless  this  is  true,  that  at  the 
very  first  setting  of  the  mouth  of  the  glass  upon  the 
bottom  of  the  bason,  it  dravveth  up  the  water  a  little, 
and  then  standeth  at  a  stay,  almost  till  the  candle's 
going  out,  as  was  said.  This  may  shew  some  attrac- 
tion at  first :  but  of  this  we  will  speak  more,  when  we 
handle  attractions  by  heat. 

Experiments  in  consort  touching  the  influences  of  the  moon. 

OF  the  power  of  the  celestial  bodies,  and  what 
more  secret  influences  they  have,  besides  the  two  ma- 
nifest influences  of  heat  and  light,  we  shall  speak 
when  we  handle  experiments  touching  the  celestial 
bodies:  mean  while  we  will  give  some  directions  for 
more  certain  trials  of  the  virtue  and  influences  of  the 
moon,  which  is  our  nearest  neighbour. 

The  influences  of  the  moon,  most  observed,  are 
four;  the  drawing  forth  of  heat ;  the  inducing  of  pu- 
trefaction ;  the  increase  of  moisture ;  the  exciting  of 
the  motions  of  spirits. 

890.  FOR  the  drawing  forth  of  heat,  we  have  for- 
merly prescribed  to  take  water  warm,  and  to  set  part 
of  it  against  the  moon-beans,  and  part  of  it  with  a 
screen  between  ;  and  to  see  whether  that  which  stand- 
eth exposed  to  the  beams  will  not  cool  sooner.  But 
because  this  is  but  a  small  interposition,  though  in 
the  sun  we  see  a  small  shade  doth  much,  it  were  good 
to  try  it  when  the  moon  shineth,  and  when  the  mooii 
shineth  not  at  all ;  and  with  water  warm  in  a  glass 
bottle,  as  well  as  in  a  dish ;  and  with  cinders  5  and 
with  iron  red-hot,  etc. 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  39 

891.  FOR  the  inducing  of  putrefaction,  It  were  good 
to  try  it  with  flesh  or  fish  exposed  to  the  moon-beams; 
and  again  exposed  to  the  air  when  the  moon  shineth 
not,  for  the  like  time ;  to  see  whether  will   corrupt 
sooner  :  and  -  try  it  also  with  a  capon,  or  some  other 
fowl,  laid  abroad,  to  see  whether  it  will  mortify  and 
become  tender  sooner ;  try  it  also  with  dead  flies,  or 
dead  worms,  having  a  little  water  cast  upon  them, 
to  see  whether  will  putrify  sooner.     Try  it  also  with 
an  apple  or  orange,  having  holes  made  in  their  tops, 
to  see  whether  will  rot  or  mould  sooner.     Try  it  also 
with  Holland  cheese,  having  wine  put  into  it,  whe- 
ther will  breed  mites  sooner  or  greater. 

892.  FOR  the  increase  of  moisture,  the  opinion  re- 
ceived is;  that  seeds  will  grow  soonest;  and  hair,  and 
nails,   and  hedges,    and   herbs   cut,  etc.  will    grow 
soonest,  if  they  be  set  or  cut  in  the  increase  of  the 
moon.   Also  that  brains  in  rabbits,  woodcocks,  calves, 
etc.  are  fullest  in  the  full  of  the  moon  :  and  so  of  mar- 
row in  the  bones  :  and  so  of  oisters  and  cockles,  which 
of  all  the  rest  are  the  easiest  tried  if  you  have  them 
in  pits. 

893.  TAKE  some  seeds  or  roots,  as  onions,  etc.  and 
set  some  of  them  immediately  after  the  change;  and 
others  of  the  same  kind  immediately  after  the  full : 
let  them  be  as  like  as  can  be  ;  the  earth  also  the  same 
as  near  as  may  be  ;  and  therefore  best  in  pots.     Let 
the  pots  also  stand  where  no  rain  or  sun  may  come  to 
them,  lest  the  difference  of  the  weather  confound  the 
experiment :  and  then  see  in  what  time  the  seeds  set 
in  the  increase  of  the  moon  come  to  a  certain  height ; 
and  how  they  differ  from  those  that  are  set  in  the  de- 
crease of  the   moon. 

894.  IT  is  like,  that  the  brain   of  man   waxeth 
moister  and  fuller  upon  the  full  of  the  moon :   and 
therefore  it  were  good  for  those  that  have  moist  brains, 
and  are  great  drinkers,  to  take  fume  of  lignum  aloes, 
rosemary,   frankincense,   etc.   about   the   full  of   the 
moon.     It   is   like   also,   that  the  humours  in  mens 
bodies  increase  and  decrease  as  the  moon  doth  :  and 
therefore  it  were  good  to  purge  some  day  or  two  after 

40  Natural  History.  [Cent.  IX. 

the  full ;  for  that  then  the  humours  will  not  replenish 
so  soon  again. 

895.  As  for  the  exciting   of  the    motion    of  the 
spirits,  you   must  note   that  the  growth   of  hedges, 
herbs,  hair,  etc.  is  caused  from  the  moon,  by  exciting 
of  the  spirits,  as  well  as  by  increase  of  the  moisture. 
But  for  spirits  in  particular,  the  great  instance  is  in 

896.  THERE  may  be  other  secret  effects  of  the  in- 
fluence of  the  moon,  which  are  not  yet  brought  into 
observation.     It  may  be,  that  if  it  so  fall  out  that  the 
wind  be  north,  or  north-east,  in  the  full  of  the  moon, 
it  increaseth  cold  ;  and  if  south,  or  south-west,  it  dis- 
poseth  the  air  for  a  good  while  to  warmth  and  rain  5 
which  should  be  observed. 

897.  IT  may  be,  that  children,  and  young  cattle, 
that  are  brought  forth  in  the   full  of  the  moon,  are 
stronger  and  larger  than  those  that  are  brought  forth 
in  the  wane  ;  and  those  also  which  are  begotten  in 
the  full  of  the  moon :  so  that  it  might  be  good  hus- 
bandry to  put  rams  and  bulls  to  their  females,  some- 
what before  the  full  of  the  moon.  It  may  be  also,  that 
the  eggs  laid  in  the  full  of  the  moon  breed  the  better 
bird  :  and  a  number  of  the   like  effects  which   may 
be  brought  into  observation.      Query  also,  whether 
great  thunders  and  earthquakes  be  not  most  in  the 
full  of  the  moon. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  vinegar. 

898.  THE  turning  of  wine  to  vinegar  is  a  kind  of 
putrefaction  :  and  in  making  of  vinegar,  they  use  to 
set  vessels  of  wine  over-against  the  noon-sun;  which 
calleth   out  the   more  oily  spirits,   and    leaveth    the 
liquor  more  sour  and  hard.    We  see  also,  that  burnt 
wine  is  more  hard  and  astringent  than  wine  unburnt. 
It  is   said,  that  cider  in  navigations  under  the  line 
ripeneth,  when  wine  or  beer  soureth.     It  were  good 
to  set   a  rundlet  of  verjuice  over-against  the  sun  in 
summer,  as  they  do  vinegar,  to  see  whether  it  will 
ripen  and  sweeten. 

Cent.  IX.]  Natural  History.  41 

Experiment  solitary  touching  creatures   that  sleep  all 


899.  THERE  be  divers  creatures  that  sleep  all  win- 
ter, as  the  bear,  the  hedge-hog,  the  bat,  the  bee,  etc, 
These  all  wax  fat  when  they  sleep,  andegestnot.  The 
cause  of  their  fattening  during  their  sleeping  time, 
may  be  the  want  of  assimilating  ;  for  whatsoever  assi- 
milateth  not  to  flesh  turneth  either  to  sweat  or  fat. 
These  creatures,  for  part  of  their  sleeping  time,  have 
been   observed  not  to  stir  at  all  ;  and  for  the  other 
part,  to  stir,  but  not  to  remove.     And  they  get  warm 
and  close  places  to  sleep  in.     When  the  Flemings 
wintered  in  Nova  Zembla,  the  bears  about  the  middle 
of  November  went  to  sleep  ;  and  then  the  foxes  began 
to  come  forth,  which  durst  not  before.    It  is  noted  by 
some  of  the  ancients,  that  the  she-bear  breedeth,  and 
Jyeth  in   with   her  young,  during  that  time  of  rest : 
and  that  a  bear  big  with  young  hath  seldom  been 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  generating  of  creatures 
by  copulation,  and  by  putrefaction. 

900.  SOME  living  creatures  are  procreated  by  co- 
pulation between  male  and  female  :  some  by  putre- 
faction :  and  of  those  which  come  by  putrefaction, 
many  do,  nevertheless,  afterwards  procreate  by  copu- 
lation.    For  the  cause  of  both  generations:  first,  it  is 
most  certain,  that  the   cause   of  all  vivification  is  a 
gentle  and  proportionable  heat,  working  upon  a  glu- 
tinous and   yielding    substance :    for   the    heat   doth 
bring  forth  spirit  in  that  substance  :  and  the  substance 
being  glutinous  produceth  two  effects ;  the  one,  that 
the  spirit  is  detained,  and  cannot  break,  forth  :  the 
other,  that  the  matter  being  gentle  and  yielding,  is 
driven  forwards  by   the   motion  of  the  spirits,  after 
some  swelling,  into  shape  and  member's.     Therefore 
all  sperm,  all  menstruous  substance,  all  matter  whereof 
creatures  are  produced  by   putrefaction,  have   ever- 
more a  closeness,  lentor,  and  sequacity.     It  seemeth 
therefore,  that  the  generation  by  sperm  only,  and  by 
putrefaction,  have  two  different  causes.     The  first  is, 

42  Natural  History*.  [Cent.  IX. 

for  that  creatures  which  have  a  definite  and  exact 
shape,  as  those  have  which  are  procreated  by  copula- 
tion, cannot  be  produced  by  a  weak  and  casual  heat; 
nor  out  of  matter  which  is  not  exactly  prepared  ac- 
cording to  the  species.  The  second  is,  for  that  there 
is  a  greater  time  required  for  maturation  of  perfect 
creatures  ;  for  if  the  time  required  in  vivification  be 
of  any  length,  then  the  spirit  will  exhale  before  the 
Creature  be  mature  ;  except  it  be  inclosed  in  a  place 
where  it  may  have  continuance  of  the  heat,  access  of 
some  nourishment  to  maintain  it,  and  closeness  that 
may  keep  it  from  exhaling  :  and  such  places  are  the 
wombs  and  matrices  of  the  females.  And  therefore 
all  creatures  made  of  putrefaction,  are  of  more  un- 
certain shape  ;  and  are  made  in  shorter  time  ;  and 
need  not  so  perfect  an  inclosure,  though  some  close- 
ness be  commonly  required.  As  for  the  heathen  opi- 
nion, which  was,  that  upon  great  mutations  of  the 
world,  perfect  creatures  were  first  engendered  of  con- 
cretion :  as  well  as  frogs,  and  worms,  and  flies,  and 
such  like,  are  now  ;  we  know  it  to  be  vain  :  but  if  any 
such  thing  should  be  admitted,  discoursing  according 
to  sense,  it  cannot  be,  except  you  admit  a  chaos  first, 
and  commixture  of  heaven  and  earth.  For  the  frame 
of  the  world,  once  in  order^  cannot  affect  it  by  any 
excess  or  casualty. 



Experiments  in  consort  touching  the  transmission  and 
influx  of  immateriate  virtues,  and  the  force  of  ima- 

JL  HE  philosophy  of  Pythagoras,  which  was  full  of 
superstition,  did  first  plant  a  monstrous  imagination, 
which  afterwards  was,  by  the  school  of  Plato  and 
others,  watered  and  nourished.  It  was,  that  the  world 
was  one  entire  perfect  living  creature  ;  insomuch  as 
Apolloniusof  Tyana,  a  Pythagorean  prophet,  affirmed, 
that  the  ebbing  and  flowing  of  the  sea  was  the 
respiration  of  the  world,  drawing  in  water  as  breath, 
and  putting  it  forth  again.  They  went  on,  and  in- 
ferred, that  if  the  world  were  a  living  creature,  it  had 
a  soul  and  spirit ;  which  also  they  held,  calling  It 
spiritus  mundiy  the  spirit  or  soul  of  the  world :  by 
which  they  did  not  intend  God,  for  they  did  admit  of 
a  Deity  besides,  but  only  the  soul  or  essential  form  of 
the  universe.  This  foundation  being  laid,  they  might 
build  upon  it  what  they  would ;  for  in  a  living  crea- 
ture, though  never  so  great,  as  for  example,  in  a  great 
whale,  the  sense  and  the  affects  of  any  one  part  of  the 
body  instantly  make  a  transcursion  throughout  the 
whole  body:  so  that  by  this  they  did  insinuate,  that 
no  distance  of  place,  nor  want  of  indisposition  of 
matter,  could  hinder  magical  operations  ;  but  that, 
for  example,  we  might  here  in  Europe  have  sense  and 
feeling  of  that  which  was  done  in  China :  and  like- 
wise we  might  work  any  effect  without  and  against 
matter ;  and  this  not  holpen  by  the  co-operation  of 
angels  or  spirits,  but  only  by  the  unity  and  harmony 
of  nature.  There  \vere  some  also  that  staid  not  here  ; 
but  went  farther,  and  held,  that  if  the  spirit  of  man, 

44  Natural  History.  [Cent.  X. 

whom  they  call  the  microcosm,  do  give  a  fit  touch 
to  the  spirit  of  the  world,  by  strong  imaginations  and 
beliefs,  it  might  command  nature  ;  for  Paracelsus,  and 
some  darksome  authors  of  magic,  do  ascribe  to  ima- 
gination exalted  the  power  of  miracle-working  faith. 
With  these  vast  and  bottomless  follies  men  have  been 
in  part  entertained. 

But  we,  that  hold  firm  to  the  works  of  God,  and 
to  the  sense,  which  is  God's  lamp,  lucerna  Dei  sjri- 
racutum  hominis,  will  inquire  with  all  sobriety  and  se- 
verity, whether  there  be  to  be  found  in  the  footsteps  of 
nature,  any  such  transmission  and  influx  of  imma- 
teriate  virtues  ;  and  what  the  force  of  imagination  is  ; 
either  upon  the  body  imaginant,  or  upon  another 
body:  wherein  it  will  be  like  that  labour  of  Her- 
cules, in  purging  the  stable  of  Augeas,  to  separate 
from  superstitious  and  magical  arts  and  observations, 
any  thing  that  is  clean  and  pure  natural  ;  and  not  to 
be  either  contemned  or  condemned.  And  although 
wre  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  of  this  in  more  places 
than  one,  yet  we  will  now  make  some  entrance 

in  consort,  monitory,  touching  transmission 
of  spirits  y  and  the  force  of  imagination. 

901.  MEN  are  to  be  admonished  that  they  do  not 
withdraw  credit.  from  the  operations  by  transmission 
of  spirits,  and  force  of  imagination,  because  the 
effects  iail  sometimes.  For  as  in  infection,  and  con- 
tagion from  body  to  body,  as  the  plague,  and  the 
like,  it  is  most  certain  that  the  infection  is  received, 
many  times,,  by  the  body  passive,  but  yet  is,  by  the 
strength  and  good  disposition  thereof,  repulsed  and 
wrought  out,  before  it  be  formed  into  a  disease;  so 
much  more  in  impressions  from  mind  to  mind,  or  from 
spirit  to  spirit,-  the  impression  taketh,  but  is  encoun- 
tered and  overcome  by  the  mind  and  spirit  which  is 
passive,  before  it  work  any  manifest  effect.  And 
therefore  they  work  most  upon  weak  minds  and  spi- 
rits; as  those  of  women,  sick  persons,  superstitious 
and  ffjirful  persons,  children,  and  young  creatures: 
Nescio  quis  tcncros  oculus  mihi  fascinat  agnos  : 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  45 

The  poet  speaketh  not  of  sheep,  but  of  lambs.  As 
for  the  weakness  of  the  power  of  them  upon  kings 
and  magistrates,  it  may  be  aseribed,  besides  the 
main,  which  is  the  protection  of  God  over  those  that 
execute  his  place,  to  the  weakness  of  the  imagination 
of  the  imaginant :  for  it  is  hard  for  a  witch  or  a  sor- 
cerer to  put  on  a  belief  that  they  can  hurt  such  per- 

902.  MEN  are   to   be  admonished,  on   the   other 
side,  that  they  do  not  easily  give  place  and  credit  to 
these  operations,  because  they  succeed  many  times ;  for 
the  cause  of  this  success  is  oft  to  be  truly  ascribed  unto 
the  force  of  affection  and  imagination  upon  the  body 
agent;  and  then  by  a  secondary  means  it  may  work 
upon  a  diverse  body  :  as  for  example,  if  a  man  carry 
a  planet's  seal,  or  a  ring,  or  some  part  of  a  beast,  be- 
lieving strongly  that  it  will  help  him  to  obtain  his 
Jove;  or  to  keep  him  from  some  danger  of  hurt  in 
fight;  or  to  prevail  in  a  suit,  etc.  it  may  make  him 
more  active  and   industrious:  and  again,  more  confi- 
dent and  persisting  than    otherwise   he  would  be» 
Now  the  great  effects  that  may  come  of  industry  and 
perseverance,  especially  in  civil  business,  who  know- 
eth  not  ?     For  we  see  audacity  'doth  almost  bind  and 
mate  the  weaker  sort  of  minds ;  and  the  state  of  human 
actions  is  so  variable,  that  to  try  things  oft,  and  never 
to  give  over,  doth  wonders :  therefore  it  were  a  mere 
fallacy  and  mistaking  to  ascribe  that  to  the   force  of 
imagination  upon  another  body,  which   is  but    the 
force  of  imagination  upon  the  proper  body;  for  there 
is  no  doubt,  but  that  imagination  and  vehement  affec- 
tion work  greatly  upon  the  body  of  the  imaginant ;  as 
we  shall  shew  in  due  place. 

903.  MEN  are  to  be  admonished,  that  as  they  are 
not  to  mistake   the   causes   of   these   operations;  so 
much  less  they  are  to  mistake  the  fact  or  effect ;  and 
rashly  to  take  that  fordone  which  is  not  done.     And 
therefore,  as  divers  wise  judges  have  prescribed  and 
cautioned,  men  may  not  too. rashly  believe  the  confes- 
sions of  witches,  nor  yet  the  evidence  against  them. 
For  the  witches  themselves  are  imaginative,  and  be- 

46  Natural  History.  [Cent.  X. 

lieve  oft-times  they  do  that  which  they  do  not :  and 
people  are  credulous  in  that  point,  and  ready  to  impute 
accidents  and  natural  operations  to  witchcraft.  It  is 
worthy  the  observing,  that  both  in  ancient  and  late 
times,  as  in  the  Thessalian  witches,  and  the  meetings 
of  witches  that  have  been  recorded  by  so  many  late 
confessions,  the  great  wonders  which  they  tell,  of 
carrying  in  the  air,  transforming  themselves  into  other 
bodies,  etc.  are  still  reported  to  be  wrought,  not  by 
incantations  or  ceremonies,  but  by  ointments,  and 
anointing  themselves  all  over.  This  may  justly  move 
a  man  to  think,  that  these  fables  are  the  effects  of 
imagination :  for  it  is  certain,  that  ointments  do  all, 
if  they  be  laid  on  anything  thick,  by  stopping  of  the 
pores,  shutting  in  the  vapours,  and  sending  them  to 
the  head  extremely.  And  for  the  particular  ingre- 
dients of  those  magical  ointments,  it  is  like  they  are 
opiate  and  soporiferous.  For  anointing  of  the  fore- 
head, neck,  feet,  back-bone,  we  know,  is  used  for 
procuring  dead  sleeps :  and  if  any  man  say  that  this 
effect  would  be  better  done  by  inward  potions;  an- 
swer may  be  made,  that  the  medicines  which  go  to 
the  ointments  are  so  strong,  that  if  they  were  used 
inwards,  they  would  kill  those  that  use  them :  and 
therefore  they  work  potently,  though  outwards. 

We  will  divide  the  several  kinds  of  the  operations 
by  transmission  of  spirits  and  imagination,  which  will 
give  no  small  light  to  the  experiments  that  follow. 
All  operations  by  transmission  of  spirits  and  imagina- 
tion have  this  ;  that  they  work  at  distance,  and  not  at 
touch;  and  they  are  these  being  distinguished. 

904.  THE  first  is  the  transmission  or  emission  of  the 
thinner  and  more  airy  parts  of  bodies;  as  in  odours 
and  infections;  and  this  is,  of  all  the  rest,  the  most 
corporeal.  But  you  must  remember  withal,  that  there 
be  a  number  of  those  emissions,  both  wholesome  and 
unwholesome,  that  give  no  smell  at  all:  for  the 
plague,  many  times  when  it  is  taken,  giveth  no  scent 
at  all :  and  there  be  many  good  and  healthful  airs 
that  do  appear  by  habitation  and  other  proofs,  that 
differ  not  in  smell  from  other  airs.  And  under  this 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  47 

head  you  may  place  all  imbibitions  of  air,  where  the 
substance  is  material,  odour-like;  whereof  some  ne- 
vertheless are  strange,  and  very  suddenly  diffused  ;  as 
the  alteration  which  the  air  receiveth  in  Egypt,  al- 
most immediately,  upon  the  rising  of  the  river  of  Nilus, 
whereof  we  have  spoken. 

905.  THE  second  is  the  transmission  or  emission  of 
those  things  that  we  call  spiritual  species;  as  visiblcs 
and  sounds:  the  one  whereof  we  have  handled,  and 
the  other  we  shall  handle  in  due  place.     These  move 
swiftly,  and  at   great  distance;    but  then    they    re- 
quire a  medium  well  disposed,  and  their  transmission 
is  easily  stopped. 

906.  THE  third  is   the  emissions,  which  cause  at- 
traction of  certain  bodies  at  distance;  wherein  though 
the  loadstone  be  commonly  placed  in  the  first  rank, 
yet  we   think    good  to  except  it,  and  refer  it  to  an- 
other head:  but  the  drawing  of  amber  and  jet,  and 
other  electric  bodies,  and  the  attraction  in   gold  of 
the  spirit  of  quicksilver  at  distance  ;  and  the  attrac- 
tion of  heat  at  distance  ;  and  that  of  fire  to  naphtha  ; 
and  that  of  some  herbs  to  water,  though  at  distance  ; 
and  divers  others ;  we  shall  handle,  but  yet  not  under 
this  present  title,  but  under  the  title  of  attraction  in 

907.  THE  fourth  is  the  emission  of  spirits,  and  im 
materiate  powers  and  virtues,  in  those  things  which 
work  by  the  universal  configuration  and  sympathy  of 
the  world ;  not  by  forms  or  celestial   influxes,  as  is 
vainly  taught  and  received,  but  by  the  primitive  na- 
ture of  matter,  and  the  seeds  of  things.     Of  this  kind 
is,  as  we  yet  suppose,  the  working  of  the  loadstone, 
which  is  by  consent  with  the  globe  of  the  earth  :  of 
this  kind  is  the  motion  of  gravity,  which  is  by  con- 
sent of  dense  bodies  with  the  globe  of  the  earth :  of 
this  kind  is  some  disposition  of  bodies  to  rotation, 
and  particularly  from  east  to  west :  of  which  kind  we 
conceive  the   main  float  and   refloat  of  the    sea  is, 
which  is  by  consent  of  the  universe,  as  part  of  the  di- 
urnal  motion.     These   immateriate  virtues  have  this 
property   differing  from  others;  that  the  diversity  of 

48  ^Natural History.  [Cent.  X. 

the  medium  hindereth  them  not  :  but  they  pass 
through  all  mediums,  yet  at  determinate  distances. 
And  of  these  we  shall  speak,  as  they  are  incident  to 
several  titles. 

90S.  THE  fifth  is  the  emission  of  spirits ;  and  this 
is  the  principal  in  our  intention  to  handle  now  in  this 
place  ;  namely,  the  operation  of  the  spirits  of  the 
mind  of  man  upon  other  spirits :  and  this  is  of  a  double 
nature  ;  the  operations  of  the  affections,  if  they  be  ve- 
hement; and  the  operation  of  the  imagination,  if  it 
be  strong.  But  these  two  are  so  coupled,  as  we  shall 
handle  them  together;  for  when  an  envious  or  amo- 
rous aspect  doth  infect  the  spirits  of  another,  there  is 
joined  both  affection  and  imagination. 

909.  THE  sixth  is,  the  influxes  of  the  heavenly  bo* 
dies,  besides  those    two   manifest  ones,  of  heat  and 
light.     But  these  we  will  handle  where  we  handle  the 
celestial  bodies  and  motions. 

910.  THE  seventh  is  the  operations  of  sympathy* 
which  the  writers  of  natural  magic  have  brought  into 
an  art  or  precept :  and  it  is  this ;  that   if  you   desire 
to  super-induce  any  virtue  or  disposition  upon  a  per- 
son, you  should  take   the   living  creature,  in  which 
that  virtue  is  most  eminent,  and  in  perfection  ;  of  that 
creature  you  must  take  the  parts  wherein  that  virtue 
chiefly  is  collocate  :  again,  you  must  take  those  parts 
in  the  time  and  act  when  that  virtue  is  most  in  exer- 
cise ;  and  then  you  must  apply  it  to  that  part  of  man 
wherein  that  virtue  chiefly  consisteth.    As  if  you  would 
super-induce  courage  and  fortitude,  take   a  lion  or  a 
cock  ;  and  take  the  heart,  tooth,  or  paw  of  the  lion ; 
or  the  heart  or  spur  of  the  cock  :  take  those   parts 
immediately  after  the  lion  or  the  cock  have  been  in 
fight;  and  let  them  be  worn  upon   a  man's  heart  or 
wrist.    Of  these  and  such  like  sympathies,  we  shall 
speak  under  this  present  title. 

911.  THE  eighth  and  last  is,  an  emission  of  immate- 
riate  virtues ;  such  as  we  are  a  little  doubtful  to  pro- 
pound ;  it  is  so  prodigious:  but  that  it  is  so  constantly 
avouched  by  many :  and  we  have  set  it  down  as  a  Jaw 
to  ourselres,  to  examine  things  to  the  bottom  j  and 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  49 

not  to  receive  upon  credit,  or  reject  upon  improba- 
bilities, until  there  hath  passed  a  due  examination. 
This  is  the  sympathy  of  individuals  ;  for  as  there  is 
a  sympathy  of  species,  so  it  may  be  there  is  a  sympa- 
thy of  individuals  :  that  is,  that  in  things,  or  the  part» 
of  things  that  have  been  once  contiguous  or  entire, 
there  should  remain  a  transmission' of  virtue  from  the 
one  to  the  other :  as  between  the  weapon  and  the 
wound.  Whereupon  is  blazed  abroad  the  operation 
of  unguenium  fell;  and  so  of  a  piece  of  lard,  or  stick 
of  alder,  etc*  that  if  part  of  it  be  consumed  or  putre- 
fied, it  will  work  upon  the  other  part  severed.  Now 
we  will  pursue  the  instances  themselves. 

Experiments  in  consort  touching  emission  of  spirits  in 
vapour  or  exhalation,,  odour-like. 

912.  THE  plague  is  many  times  taken  without  ma- 
nifest sense,  as  hath  been  said.   And  they  report,  that 
where  it    is  found,  it  hath   a  scent  of  the  smell  of  a 
mellow  apple  :    and,  as  some  say,  of  May-flowers  : 
and  it  is  also  received,  that  smells  of  flowers  that  are 
mellow  and  luscious,  are  ill  for  the  plague  $  as  white 
lilies,  cowslips,  and  hyacinths. 

913.  THE  plague  is  not  easily  received  by  such  as 
continually  are  about  them  that  have  the  plague ;  as 
keepers  of  the  sick,  and  physicians;  nor  again  by  such 
as  take  antidotes,  either  inward,  as  mithridate,  juniper 
berries,  rue,  leaf  and  seed,  etc.  or  outward,  as  ange- 
lica, zedoary,  and  the  like,  in  the  mouth ;  tar,  gal- 
banum,  and  the  like,  in  perfume ;   nor  again  by  old 
people,  and  such  as  are  of  a  dry  and  cold  complexion. 
On  the  other  side,  the  plague  taketh  soonest  hold  of 
those  that  come  out  of  a  fresh  air,  and  of  those  that 
are  fasting,  and  of  children  ;  and  it  is  likewise  noted 
to  go  in  a  blood,  more  than  to  a  stranger. 

914.  THE  most   pernicious  infection,   next  to  the 
plague,  is  the  smell  of  the  jail,  when  prisoners  have 
been  long,  and  close,  and  nastily  kept ;  whereof  we 
have  had   in  our  time  experience  twice  or   thrice  ; 
when  both  the  judges  that  sat  upon  the  jail,  and  num- 
bers of  those  that  attended  the  business  or  were  pre- 

VOL.  II.  E 

50  Natural  History.  [Cent.  X. 

sent,  sickened  upon  it,  and  died.  Therefore  it  were 
good  wisdom,  that  in  such  cases  the  jail  were  aired 
before  they  be  brought  forth. 

915.  Our  of  question,  if  such  foul  smells  be  made 
by  art,  and  by  the  hand,  they  consist  chiefly  of  man's 
flesh  or  sweat  putrified  ;  for  they  are  not  those  stinks 
which  the  nostrils  straight  abhor  and  expel,  that  are  most 
pernicious;  but  such  airs  as  have  some  similitude  with 
man's  body ;  and  so  insinuate  themselves,  and  betray 
the  spirits.  There  may  be  great  danger  in  using  such 
compositions,  in  great  meetings  of  people  within 
houses  ;  as  in  churches,  at  arraignments,  at  plays  and 
solemnities,  and  the  like  :  for  poisoning  of  air  is  no 
less  dangerous  than  poisoning  of  water,  which  hath 
been  used  by  the  Turks  in  the  wars,  and  was  used  by 
Emmanuel  Comnenus  towards  the  Christians,  when 
they  passed  through  his  country  to  the  Holy  Land. 
And  these  impoisonments  of  air  are  the  more  dan- 
gerous in  meetings  of  people,  because  the  much 
breath  of  people  doth  further  the  reception  of  the  in- 
fection ;  and  therefore,  where  any  such  thing  is  feared, 
it  were  good  those  public  places  were  perfumed,  be- 
fore the  assemblies. 

916.  THE  impoisonment  of  particular  persons  by 
odours,  hath  been  reported  to  be  in  perfumed  gloves, 
or  the  like :  and  it  is  like,,  they  mingle  the  poison 
that  is  deadly,  with  some  smells  that  are  sweet,  which 
also  maketh  it  the  sooner  received.  Plagues  also  have 
been  raised  by  anointings  of  the  chinks  of  doors,  and 
the  like  j.  not  so  much  by  the  touch,,  as  for  that  it  is 
common  for  men,  when  they  find  anything  wet  upon 
their  fingers,  to  put  them  to  their  nose ;  which  men 
therefore  should  take  heed  how  they  do.     The  best  is, 
that   these  compositions  of  infectious  airs  cannot  be 
made  without  danger  of  death  to   them  that   make 
them.     But  then  again,  they  may  have  some  antidotes 
to  save  themselves  ;  so  that  men   ought  not  to  be  se- 
cure of  it. 

917.  THERE  have  been    in  clivers   countries  great 
plagues,  by  the  putrefaction  of  great  swarms  of  grass^ 
hoppers  and  locusts,  when  they  have  been  dead  and 
cast  upon  heaps. 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  5i 

918.  IT  happeneth  often  in  mines,  that  there  are 
damps  which  kill,  either  by  suffocation,  or  by  the  poi- 
sonous  natuie  of  the    mineral:  and  those   that  deal 
much  in  refining,  or  other  works   about  metals  and 
minerals,  have  their  brains  hurt  and  stupified  by  the 
metalline  vapours.     Amongst  which  it  is  noted,  that 
the  spirits  of  quicksilver  either  fly  to  the  skull,  teeth, 
or  bones ;  insomuch  as  gilders  use  to  have  a  piece  of 
gold  in  their  mouth,  to  draw  the  spirits  of  the  quick* 
silver ;   which  gold  afterwards  they  find  to  be  whit- 
ened.    There  are  also  certain  lakes  and  pits,  such  as 
that  of  Avernus,  that  poison  birds,  as  is  said,  which 
fly  over  them,  or  men  that  stay  too  long  about  them* 

919.  THE  vapour  of  char- coal,  or  sea-coal,  in  a  close 
room,  hath  killed  many ;  and  it  is  the  more  danger- 
ous, because  it  cometh  without  any  ill  smell,  but  steal- 
eth  on  by  little  and  little,  inducing  only  a  faintness, 
without  any  manifest  strangling.  When  the  Dutchmen 
wintered  at  Nova  Zembla,  and  that  they  could  gather 
no  more  sticks,  they  fell  to  make  fire  of  some  sea-coal 
they  had,  wherewith,  at  first,  they  were  much  refresh- 
ed ;   but  a  little  after  they  had  sat  about  the  fire,  there 
grew  a  general  silence  and  lothness  to  speak  amongst 
them ;  and  immediately  after,  one  of  the   weakest  of 
the  company  fell  down  in  a  swoon  ;  whereupon  they 
doubting  what  it  was,  opened  their  door  to  let  in  air, 
and  so  saved  themselves.     The  effect,  no   doubt,  is 
wrought  by  the  inspissation  of  air;  and  so  of  the  breath 
and  spirits.     The  like  ensueth  in  rooms  new7ly  plais- 
tered,  if  a  fire  be  made  in  them ;  whereof  no  less  3. 
man  than  the  emperor  Jovinianus  died. 

920.  VIDE  the  experiment  803,  touching  the  infec- 
tious nature  of  the  air,  upon  the  first  showers,  after  a 
long  drought. 

921.  IT  hath  come  to  pass,  that  some  apothecaries, 
upon  stamping  of  colloquintida,  have  been  put  into  a 
great  scouring  by  the  vapour  only. 

922.  IT  hath  been  a  practice  to  burn  a  pepper  they 
call  Guiney -pepper,  which  hath  such  a  strong  spirit, 
that  it  provoketh  a  continual  sneezing  in  those  that 
are  in  the  room. 

E  2 

52  Natural  Hitttory.  [Cent.   X. 

923.  Iris  an  ancient  tradition,  that  blear-eyes  in- 
fect sound  eyes;  and  that  a  menstruous  woman,  look- 
ing upon  a  glasss,  doth  rust  it :  nay,  they  have  an  opi- 
nion which  seemeth   fabulous;  that  menstruous  wo- 
men going  over  a  field  or  garden,  do  corn  and  herbs 
good  by  killing  the  worms. 

924.  THE  tradition  is  no  less  ancient,  that  the  basi- 
lisk killeth  by  aspect ;  and  that  the  wolf,  if  he  see  a 
man  first,  by  aspect  striketh  a  man  hoarse. 

925.  PERFUMES  convenient  do  dry  and  strengthen 
the  brain,  and  stay  rheums  and  defluxions,  as  we  find 
in  fume  of  rosemary  dried,  and  lignum  aloes  ;  and  ca- 
lamus taken  at  the  mouth  and  nostrils :  and  no  doubt 
there  be  other  perfumes  that  do  moisten  and  refresh, 
and  are  fit  to  be  used  in  burning  agues,  consumptions-, 
and  too  much  wrakefulness  ;  such  as  are  rose-water, 
vinegar,    lemon-peels,  violets,    the    leaves  of  vines 
sprinkled  with  a  little  rose-water,  etc. 

926.  THEY  do  use   in  sudden  faintings  and  swoon- 
ings  to  put  a  handkerchief  with  rose-water  or  a  little 
vinegar  to  the  nose  ;  which  gathereth  together  again 
the  spirits,  which  are  upon  point  to  resolve  and  fall 

927.  TOBACCO  comforteth  the  spirits,  and  discharg- 
eth  weariness,  which  it  worketh  partly   by  opening, 
but  chiefly  by  the  opiate   virtue,   which   condenseth 
the  spirits.     It  were  good  therefore  to  try  the  taking 
of  fumes  by  pipes,  as  they  do   in   tobacco,   of  other 
things;  as  well  to  dry  and  comfort,  as  for  other  inten- 
tions.  I  wish  trial  be  made  of  the  drying  furne  of  rose- 
mary, and  Lignum  aloes,   before-mentioned,  in  pipe; 
and  so  of  nutmeg,  and  folium  indum,  etc. 

928.  THE  following  of  the  plough  hath  been  ap- 
proved  for  refreshing  the   spirits  and  procuring  ap- 
petite ;   but  to  do  it  in  the  ploughing  for  wheat  or 
rye,  is  not  so  good,  because  the  earth  has  spent  her 
sweet  breath  in  vegetables  put  forth  in  summer.     It 
is  better  therefore  to  do  it  when  you  sow  barley.     But 
because  ploughing  is  tied  to  seasons,  it  is  best  to  take 
the  air  of  the  earth  new  turned  up,  by  digging  with 
the  spade,  or  standing  by  him  that  diggeth.     Gentle- 

Cent.  X,]  Natural  History.  5  3 

women  may  do  themselves  much  good  by  kneeling 
upon  a  cushion,  and  weeding.  And  these  things  you 
may  practise  in  the  best  seasons;  which  is  ever  the 
early  spring,  before  the  earth  putteth  forth  the  vege- 
tables, and  in  the  sweetest  earth  you  can  choose.  It 
should  be  done  also  when  the  dew  is  a  little  off  the 
ground,  lest  the  vapour  be  too  moist.  I  knew  a  great 
man  that  lived  long,  who  had  a  clean  clod  of  earth 
brought  to  him  every  morning  as  he  sat  in  his  bed ; 
and  he  would  hold  his  head  over  it  a  good  pretty  while. 
I  commend  also,  sometimes,  in  digging  of  new  earth, 
to  pour  in  some  Malmsey  or  Greek  wine,  that  the 
vapour  of  the  earth  and  wine  together  may  comfdrt 
the  spirits  the  more  ;  provided  always  it  be  not  taken  / 
for  a  heathen  sacrifice,  or  libation  to  the  earth. 

929.  THEY  have  in  physic  use  of  pomanders,  and 
knots  of  powders,  for  drying  of  rheums,  comforting 
of  the  heart,  provoking  of  sleep,  etc.     For  though 
those  things  be  not  so  strong  as  perfumes,  yet  you  may 
have  them  continually   in   your  hand ;    whereas  per- 
fumes you  can  take  but  at  times  :  and  besides,  there 
be  divers  things  that  breathe  better  of  themselves,  than 
when  they  come  to   the  fire  ;  as  ?u'gella  romana,  the 
seed  of  mdanthiiim,  amomum,  etc. 

930.  THERE  be  two  things  which,   inwardly  used, 
do  cool  and  condense  the  spirits  ;  and  I  wish  the  same 
to  be  tried   outwardly  in  vapours.     The  one  is  nitre, 
which  I  would  have  dissolved  in  Malmsey,  or  Greek 
wine,  and  so  the  smell  of  the  wine  taken;  or  if  you 
would  have  it  more   forcible,  pour  of  it  upon  a  fire- 
pan, well  heated,  as  they  do  rose-water  and  vinegar. 
The  other  is  the  distilled  water  of  wild  poppy,  which 
I  wish  to  be  mingled,  at  half,  with  rose-water,  and 
so  taken  with  some  mixture  of  a  few  cloves  in  a  per- 
furning-pan.     The  like  should  be  done  with  the  dis- 
tilled water  of  saffron  flowers. 

931.  SMELLS  of  musk,  and  amber,  and  civet,  are 
thought  to  further  venerous  appetite;  which  they  may 
do  by  the  refreshing  and  calling  forth  of  the  spirits, 

932.  INCEKSE  and  niclorous  .smells,  such  as  were  of 
sacrifices,  were  thought  to  intoxicate  the  brain,  and 

54  Natural  History.  [Cent.  X. 

to  dispose  men  to  devotion :  which  they  may  do  by  a 
kind  of  sadness,  and  contestation  of  the  spirits;  and 
partly  also  by  heating  and  exalting  them.  We  see 
that  amongst  the  Jews  the  principal  perfume  of  the 
sanctuary  was  forbidden  all  common  uses. 

933.  THERE  be  some  perfumes  prescribed  by  the 
writers  of  natural   magic,    which    procure    pleasant 
dreams :    and  some    others,    as    they   say,  that  pro- 
cure prophetical  dreams  3   as  the  seeds  of  flax,  flea- 
wort,  etc. 

934.  IT  is  certain,  that  odours  do,  in  a  small  de- 
gree, nourish  ;  especially  the  odour  of  wine  :  and  we 
see  men  an  hungered  do  love  to  smell  hot  bread.     It 
is  related  that   Democritus,  when    he   lay  a  dying, 
heard  a  woman  in  the  house  complain,  that  she  should 
be  kept  from  being  at  a  feast  and  solemnity,  which 
she  much  desired  to  see,  because  there   would  be  a 
corpse  in  the  house ;  whereupon  he  caused  loaves  of 
new  bread  to  be  sent   fur,  and  opened  them,  and 
poured  a  little  wine  into  them ;  and  so  kept  himself 
alive  with  the  odour  of  them,  till  the  feast  was  past. 
I  knew  a  gentleman  that  would  fast,  sometimes  three 
or  four,  yea  five  days,  without  meat,  bread,  or  drink; 
but  the  same  man  used  to  have  continually  a  great 
wisp  of  herbs  that  he  smelled  on  :  and  amongst  those 
herbs,  some  esculent  herbs  of  strong  scent ;  as  onions, 
garlic,  leeks,  and  the  like. 

935.  THEY  do  use,  for  the  accident  of  the  mother, 
to  burn  feathers  and  other  things  of  ill  odour  :  and  by 
those  ill  smells  the  rising  of  the  mother  is  put  down. 

936.  THERE  be  airs  which  the  physicians   advise 
their  patients  to  remove  unto  in  consumptions  or  upon 
recovery  of  long  sicknesses;  which,  commonly,  are 
plain    champains,    but  grasing,  and   not   overgrown 
with  heath  or  the  like ;  or  else  timber-shades,  as  in 
forests,  arid  the  like.     It  i^  noted  also,  that  groves  of 
bays  do  forbid  pestilent  airs;  which  was  accounted  a 
great  cause  of  the  wholesome  air  of  Antiochia.  There 
be    also  some  soils    that    put    forth  odorate  herbs  of 
themselves;   as    wild  thyme,  wild  marjoram,  penny- 
royal, camomile  ;  and  in  which  the  brier  roses  smell 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History. 

almost  like  musk-roses  ;  which,  no  dotibt,  are  signs 
that  do  discover  an  excellent  air. 

937.  IT  were  good  for  men    to  think  of  having 
healthful  air  in  their  houses;  which  will  never  be  if 
the  rooms  be  low-roofed,  or  fall   of  windows  and 
doors ;  for  the  one  maketh  the  air  close,  and  not  fresh, 
and  the  other  maketh   it  exceeding  unequal ;  which 
is  a  great  enemy  to  health.    The  windows  also  should 
not  be  high  up 'to  the  roof,  which  rs  in  use  for  beauty 
and  magnificence,  but   low.      Also   stone-walls  are 
not  wholesome  ;  but  timber  is  more  wholesome  ;  and 
especially  brick:  nay,  it  hath  been  used  by  some  with 
great  success  to  make  their  walls  thick  $  and  to  put 
a  lay  of  chalk  between  the  bricks,  to  take  away  all 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  emissions  of  spiritual 
species  ivhich  affect  the  senses. 

938.  THESE  emissions,  as  we  said  before,  are  han- 
dled, and  ought  to   be  handled  by  themselves  under 
their  proper  titles:  that  is,  visiblesand  audibles,  each 
apart  :  in  this  place  it  shall  suffice  to  give  some  ge- 
neral observations  common  to  both.  First,  they  seem 
to    be   incorporeal.      Secondly,    they  work    swiftly. 
Thirdly,  they  work  at  large  distances.     Fourthly,  in 
curious  varieties.     Fifthly,  they  are  not  effective   of 
any  thing ;  nor  leave  no  work  behind  them  ;  but  are 
energies  merely :  for  their  working   upon    mirrours 
and  places  of  echo  doth  not  alter  any  thing  in  those 
bodies  ;  but  it  is  the   same  action  with  the  original, 
only  repercussed.     And  as  for  the  shaking   of  win- 
dows,   or  rarifying  the  air  by  great  noises;  and  the 
heat  caused  by  burning-glasses  ;  they  are   rather  con- 
comitants of  the  audible  and  visible  species,  than  the 
effects  of  them.    Sixthly,  they  seem  to  be  of  so  tender 
and  weak  a  nature,  as  they  effect   only   such   a  rare 
and  attenuate  substance,  as  is  the  spirit  of  living  crea* 

56  Natural  History.  [Cent.X. 

Experiments  in  consort  touching  the  emission  of  miniate-* 
riate  virtues  from  the  minds  and  spirits  of  men,  either 
by  affections,  or  by  imaginations,  or  by  other  im- 

939.  IT  is  mentioned  in  some  stones,  that  where 
children  have  been  exposed,  or  taken  away  young 
from  their  parents  ;  and  that  afterwards  they  have 
approached  to  their  parents  presence,  the  parents, 
though  they  have  not  known  them,  have  had  a  secret 
joy  or  other  alteration  thereupon. 

910.  THERE  was  an  Egyptian  soothsayer,  that 
made  Antonius  believe,  that  his  genius,  which  other-? 
wise  was  brave  and  confident,  was,  in  the  presence  of 
Octavianus  Caasar,  poor  and  cowardly  :  and  therefore 
he  advised  him,  to  absent  himself  as  much  as  he 
could,  and  remove  far  from  him.  This  soothsayer 
was  thought  to  be  suborned  by  Cleopatra,  to  make 
him  live  in  Egypt,  and  other  remote  places  from 
Rome.  Howsoever  the  conceit  of  a  predominant  or 
mastering  spirit  of  one  man  over  another,  is  ancient, 
and  received  still,  even  in  vulgar  opinion. 

91- 1 .  THERE  are  conceits,  that  some  men  that  are  of  an 
ill  and  melancholy  nature,  do  incline  the  company  in- 
to which  they  come  to  be  sad  and  ill  disposed;  and 
contrariwise,  that  others  that  are  of  ajovial  nature,  do 
dispose  the  company  to  be  merry  and  cheerful.  And 
again,  that  some  men  are  lucky  to  be  kept  company 
with  and  employed;  and  others  unlucky.  Certainly, 
it  is  agreeable  to  reason,  that  there  are  at  the  least 
some  light  effluxions  from  spirit  to  spirit,  when  men, 
are  in  presence  one  with  another,  as  well  as  from 
body  to  body. 

91-2.  IT  hath  been  observed,  that  old  men  who  have 
]oved  young  company,  and  been  conversant  continu- 
ally with  them,  have  been  of  long  life  ,  their  spirits,  as 
it  seemeth,  being  recreated  by  such  com  pan)'.  Such 
were  the  ancient  sophists  and  rhetoricians;  which 
ever  had  young  auditors  and  disciples;  as  Gorgias, 
Protagoras,  Isocrates,  etc.  who  lived  till  they  were  an 
hundred  years  old.  And  so  like\vise  did  many  of 
the  grammarians  and  school-masters;  such  as  was 
Orbilius,  etc. 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  57 

943.  AUDACITY  and  confidence  doth,  in  civil  bu-- 
siness,    so  great  effects,   as  a  man  may  reasonably 
doubt,  that  besides  the  very  daring  and  earnestness, 
and  persisting,  and  importunity,  there  should  be  some 
secret  binding,  and  stooping  of  other  men's  spirits  to 
such  persons. 

944.  THE  affections,  no  doubt,  do  make  the  spirits 
more  powerful  and  active  ;  and  especially  those  affec- 
tions which  draw  the  spirits  into  the  eyes :  which  are 
two ;  love,  and  envy,  which  is  called  oculus  mains. 
As  for  love,  the  Platonists,  some  of  them,  go  so  far  as 
to  hold  that  the  spirit  of  the  lover  doth  pass  into  the 
spirits  of  the  person  loved  ;  which  causeth  the  desire  of 
return  into  the  body  whence  it  was  emitted  :  whereup- 
on followeth  that  appetite  of  contact  and  conjunction 
which  is  in  lovers.  And  this  is  observed  likewise,  that 
the  aspects  which  procure  love,  are  not  gazings,  but 
sudden  glances  and  dartings  of  the  eye.    As  for  envv, 
that  emitteth  some  malign  and  poisonous  spirit,  which 
taketh  hold  of  the  spirit  of  another  5  and  is  likewise  of 
greatest  force  when  thejcast  of  the  eye  is  oblique.     It 
hath  been  noted  also,  that  it  is  most  dangerous  when 
an  envious  eye   is   cast  upon  persons  in  glory,  in  tri- 
umph, and  joy.     The    reason  whereof  is,  for  that  at 
such  tirnes  the  spirits  come  forth  most  into  the  outward 
parts,  and  so  meet  the  percussion  of  the  envious  eye 
more  at  hand:  and  therefore  it  hath  been  noted,  that 
after  great  triumphs,  men  have  been  ill-disposed  for 
some  days  following.     We   see    the   opinion   of  fas- 
cination is  ancient,  for  both  effects;  of  procuring  love; 
and  sickness  caused  by  envy:  and  fascination  is  ever 
by  the  eye.     But   yet  if  there  be  any  such  infection 
from  spirit  to  spirit,  there  is  no  doubt  but  that  it  work- 
eth  by  presence,   and  not  by  the  eye  alone  ;  yet  most 
forcibly  by  the  eye. 

945.  FEAR  and  shame  are  likewise  infective;  for 
we  see  that  the  starting  of  one  will  make  another  ready 
to  start:  and  when  one  man  is  out  of  countenance 
in  a  company,  others  do  likewise  blush  in  his  behalf. 

Now  we  will  speak  of  the  force  of  imagination 
upon  other  bodies 3  and  of  the  means  to  exalt  and 

58  Natural  History.  [Cent  X. 

strengthen  it.  Imagination  in  this  place  I  under- 
stand to  be,  the  representation  of  an  individual 
thought.  Imagination  is  of  three  kinds:  the  first 
joined  with  belief  of  that  which  is  to  come :  the  second 
joined  with  memory  of  that  which  is  past;  and  the 
third  is  of  things  present,  or  as  if  they  were  present ; 
for  I  comprehend  in  thic,  imaginations  feigned,  and  at 
pleasure ;  as  if  one  should  imagine  such  a  man  to  be 
in  the  vestments  of  a  pope  ;  or  to  have  wings.  I  single 
out,  for  this  time,  that  which  is  with  faith  or  belief  of 
that  which  is  to  come.  The  inquisition  of  this  sub- 
ject in  our  way,  which  is  by  induction,  is  wonderful 
hard:  for  the  things  that  are  reported  are  full  of  fa- 
bles; and  new  experiments  can  hardly  be  made,  but 
with  extreme  caution  ;  for  the  reason  which  we  will 
hereafter  declare. 

THE  power  of  imagination  is  of  three  kinds  ;  the 
first  upon  the  body  of  the  imaginant,  including  like- 
wise the  child  in  the  mother's  womb ;  the  second  is, 
the  power  of  it  upon  dead  bodies,  as  plants,  wood, 
stone,  metal,  etc,  the  third  is,  the  power  of  it  upon  the 
spirits  of  men  and  living  creatures:  and  with  this  last 
\ve  will  only  meddle. 

THE  problem  therefore  is,  whether  a  man  coni- 
stantly  and  strongly  believing  that  such  a  thing  shall 
be,  as  that  such  an  one  will  love  him  ;  or  that  such  an 
one  will  grant  him  his  request  ;  or  that  such  an  one 
shall  recover  a  sickness ;  or  the  like  ;  it  doth  help  any 
thing  to  the  effecting  of  the  thing  itself.  And  here 
again  we  must  warily  distinguish ;  for  it  is  not  meant,  as 
hath  been  partly  said  before,  that  it  should  help  by 
making  a  man  more  stout,  or  more  industrious,  in 
which  kind  a  constant  belief  doth  much,  but  merely 
by  a  secret  operation,  or  binding,  or  changing  the 
spirit  of  another :  and  in  this  it  is  hard,  as  we  began  to 
say,  to  make  any  new  experiment ;  for  I  cannot  com-r 
mand  myself  to  believe  what  I  will,  and  so  no  trial 
can  be  made.  Nay  it  is  worse ;  for  whatsoever  a  man 
imagineth  doubt ingly,  or  with  fear,  must  needs  do 
hurt,  if  imagination  have  any  power  at  all;  fora  man 
representeth  that  oftener  that  he  feareth,  than  the  con- 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History. 

THE  help  therefore  is,  for  a  man  to  work  by  an- 
other, in  whom  he  may  create  belief,  and  not  by  him- 
self; until  himself  have  found  by  experience,  that 
imagination  doth  prevail ;  for  then  experience  work- 
eth  in  himself  belief;  if  the  belief  that  such  a  thing 
shall  be,  be  joined  with  a  belief  that  his  imagination 
may  procure  it. 

946.  FOR  example;  I  related  one  time  to  a  man 
that  was  curious  and  vain  enough  in  these  things,  that 
I  saw  a  kind  of  juggler,  that  had  a  pair  of  cards,  and 
would  tell  a  man  what  card  he  thought.  This  pre- 
tended learned  man  told  me,  it  was  a  mistaking  in 
me  ;  **  for,  said  he,  it  was  not  the  knowledge  of  the 
"  man's  thought,  for  that  is  proper  to  God,  but  it 
**  was  the  inforcing  of  a  thought  upon  him,  and 
*c  binding  his  imagination  by  a  stronger,  that  he  could 
"  think  no  other  card."  And  thereupon  he  asked 
me  a  question  or  two,  which  I  thought  he  did  but 
cunningly,  knowing  before  what  used  to  be  the  feats 
of  the  juggler.  ff  Sir,  said  he,  do  you  remember 
f<  whether  he  told  the  card  the  man  thought  himself, 
*c  or  bade  another  to  tell  it?"  I  answered,  as  was 
true,  that  he  bade  another  tell  it.  Whereunto  he 
said,  "  So  I  thought:  for  said  he,  himself  could  not 
fs  have  put  on  so  strong  an  imagination  ;  but  by  tel- 
€f  ling  the  other  the  card,  who  believed  that  the  juggler 
"  was  some  strange  man,  and  could  do  strange  things, 
cc  that  other  man  caught  a  strong  imagination."  I 
hearkened  unto  him,  thinking  for  a  vanity  he  spoke 
prettily.  Then  he  asked  me  another  question  :  saith 
he,  tf  Do  you  remember,  whether  he  bade  the 
"  man  think  the  card  first,  and  afterwards  told  the 
'•  other  man  in  his  ear  what  he  should  think  ;  or  else 
(s  that  he  did  whisper  first  in  the  man's  ear  that 
"  should  tell  the  card,  telling  that  such  a  man  should 
"  think  such  a  card,  and  after  bade  the  man  think  a 
"  card?"  I  told  him  as  was  true;  that  he  did  first 
whisper  the  man  in  the  ear,  that  such  a  man  should 
think  such  a  card:  upon  this  the  learned  man  did 
much  exult  and  please  himself,  saying  ;  "  Lo,  you 
"  may  see  that  my  opinion  is  right:  for  if  the  man 

60  Natural  History.  [Cent.  X, 

cc  liad  thought  first,  his  thought  had  been  fixed  ;  but 
"  the  other  imagining  first,  bound  his  thought." 
Which  though  it  did  somewhat  sink  with  me,  yet  I 
made  it  lighter  than  I  thought,  and  said;  I  thought 
it  was  confederacy  between  the  juggler  and  the  two 
servants  :  though,  indeed,  I  had  no  reason  so  to 
think,  for  they  were  both  my  father's  servants  ;  and 
he  had  never  played  in  the  house  before.  The  jug- 
gler also  did  cause  a  garter  to  be  held  up ;  and  took 
upon  him  to  know,  that  such  an  one  should  point  in 
such  a  place  of  the  garter;  as  it  should  be  near  so 
many  inches  to  the  longer  end,  and  so  many  to  the 
shorter ;  and  still  he  did  it,  by  first  telling  the  irna- 
giner,  and  after  bidding  the  actor  think. 

HAVING  told  this  relation,  not  for  the  weight 
thereof,  but  because  it  doth  handsomely  open  the  na- 
ture of  the  question,  I  return  to  that  I  said;  that  ex- 
periments of  imagination  must  be  practised  by  others, 
and  not  by  a  man's  self.  For  there  be  three  means  to 
fortify  belief:  the  first  is  experience  ;  the  second  is 
reason;  and  the  third  is  authority:  and  that  of  these 
which  is  far  the  most  potent,  is  authority ;  tor  belief 
upon  reason  or  experience,  will  stagger. 

947.  FOR  authority,  it  is  of  two  kinds  ;  belief  in  an 
art ;  and  belief  in  a  man.  And  for  things  of  belief 
in  an  art,  a  man  may  exercise  them  by  himself;  but 
for  belief  in  a  man,  it  must  be  by  another.  Therefore 
if  a  man  believe  in  astrology,  and  find  a  figure  pros- 
perous; or  believe  in  natural  magic,  and  that  a  ring 
\vitli  such  a  stone,  or  such  a  piece  of  a  living  creature, 
carried,  will  do  good;  it  may  help  his  imagination  : 
but  the  belief  in  a  man  is  far  the  more  active.  But 
howsoever,  all  authority  must  be  out  of  a  man's  self, 
turned,  as  was  said,  either  upon  an  art,  or  upon  a 
man:  and  where  authority  is  from  one  man  to  an- 
other, there  the  second  must  be  ignorant,  and  not 
learned,  or  full  of  thoughts;  and  such  are,  for  the 
most  part,  all  witches  and  superstitious  persons; 
whose  beliefs,  tied  to  their  teachers  and  traditions,  are 
no  whit  controlled  either  by  reason  or  experience; 
and  upon  the  same  reason,  in  magic,  they  use  tor  the 

Cent.  X.J  Natural  History. 

most  part  boys  and  young  people,   whole  spirits  easi- 
liest  take  belief  and  imagination. 

Now  to  fortify  imagination,  there  be  three  ways  : 
the  authority  whence  the  belief  is  derived;  me  ins  to 
quicken  and  corroborate  the  imagination  ;  and  means 
to  repeat  it  and  refresh  it. 

948.  FOR  the  authority,  we  have  already  spoken  : 
as  for  the  second,  namely,  the  means  to  quicken  and 
corroborate  the  imagination;  we  see  what  hath  been 
used  in  magic,  if  there  be  in  those  practices  any  thing 
that  is  purely  natural,  as  vestments,  characters,  words, 
seals ;    some    parts   of  plants,    or   living   creatures ; 
stones;  choice  of  the  hour ;  gestures  and  motions  ;  also 
incenses  and  odours  ;    choice  of  society,  which  in- 
creased! imagination  :  diets  and  preparations  for  some 
time  before.     And  for  words,  there  have  been  ever 
used,  either  barbarous  words,  of  no  sense,  lest  they 
should  disturb  the  imagination;  or  words  of  simili- 
tude, that  may  second  and  feed  the  imagination  ;  and 
this  was  ever  as  well  in  heathen  charms,  as  in  charms 
of  latter  times.    There  are  used  also  Scripture  words  ; 
for  that  the  belief  that  religious  texts  and  words  have 
power,  may  strengthen  the  imagination.    And  for  the 
same  reason,    Hebrew  words,   which  amongst  us  is 
counted  the  holy  tongue,  and  the  words  more  mysti- 
cal, arc  often  used. 

949.  FOR  the  refreshing  of  the  imagination,  which 
was  the  third  means  of  exalting  it,  we  see  the  prac- 
tices of  magic,  as  in  images  of  wax,  and  the  like,  that 
should  melt  by  little  and  little ;  or  some  other  things 
buried   in   muck,   that   should  putrify   by  little   and 
little ;    or  the  like  :  for  so  oft  as  the  imaginant  doth 
think  of  those  things,  so  oft  doth  he  represent  to  his 
imagination  the  effect  of  that  he  desireth. 

950.  IF  there  be  any  power  in  imagination,  it  is 
less  credible  that  it  should  be  so  incorporeal,  and  im- 
materiate  a  virtue  as  to  work  at  great  distances,  or 
through  all  mediums,  or  upon  all  bodies  :  but  that  the 
distance  must  be  competent,  the  medium  not  adverse, 
and  the   body  apt  and  proportionate.     Therefore  if 
there  be  any  operation  upon  bodies  in  absence  by  na* 

62  Natural  History.  [Cent.  X. 

ture,  it  is  like  to  be  conveyed  from  man  to  man,  as 
fame  is  ;  as  if  a  witch,  by  imagination,  should  hurt 
any  afar  off,  it  cannot  be  naturally  ;  but  by  working 
upon  the  spirit  of  some  that  cometh  to  the  witch  ;  and 
from  that  party  upon  the  imagination  of  another;  and 
so  upon  another;  till  it  come  to  one  that  hath  resort 
to  the  party  intended;  and  so  by  him  to  the  party 
intended  himself.  And  although  they  speak,  that  it 
sufficeth  to  take  a  point,  or  a  piece  of  the  garment,  or 
the  name  of  the  party,  or  the  like ;  yet  there  is  less 
credit  to  be  given  to  those  things,  except  it  be  by 
working  of  evil  spirits. 

THE  experiments,  which  may  certainly  demonstrate 
the  power  of  imagination  upon  other  bodies,  are  few 
or  none  :  for  the  experiments  of  witchcraft  are  no  clear 
proofs  ;  for  that  they  may  be  by  a  tacit  operation  of 
malign  spirits  :  we  shall  therefore  be  forced,  in  this 
inquiry,  to  resort  to  new  experiments  ;  wherein  we 
can  give  only  directions  of  trials,  and  not  any  positive 
experiments  And  if  any  man  think  that  we  ought 
to  have  stayed  till  we  had  made  experiment  of  some 
of  them  ourselves,  as  we  do  commonly  in  other  titles, 
the  truth  is,  that  these  effects  of  imagination  upon 
other  bodies  have  so  little  credit  with  us,  as  we  shall 
try  them  at  leisure  ;  but  in  the  mean  time  we  will 
lead  others  the  way. 

951.  WHEN  you  work  by  the  imagination  of  ano* 
ther,  it  is  necessary  that  he,  by  whom  you  work,  have 
a  precedent  opinion  of  you  that  you  can  do  strange 
things  ;  or  that  you  are  a  man  of  art,  as  they  call  it ; 
for  else  the  simple  affirmation  to  another,  that  this  or 
that  shall  be,  can  work  but  a  weak  impression  in  his 

952.  IT  were  good,  because  you  cannot  discern 
fully  of  the  strength  of  imagination  in  one  man  more 
than  another,  that  you  did  use  the  imagination  of  more 
than  one,  that  so  you  may  light  upon  a  strong  one. 
As  if  a  physician  should  tell  three  or  four  of  his  pa- 
tient's servants,  that  their  master  shall  surely  recover. 

953.  THE  imagination  of  one  that  you  shall  use, 
such  is  the  variety  of  mcns  minds,  cannot  be  always 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  63 

alike  constant  and  strong  ;  and  if  the  success  follow 
not  speedily,  it  will  faint  and  lose  strength.  To  re- 
medy this,  you  must  pretend  to  him,  whose  imagina- 
tion you  use,  several  degrees  of  means,  by  which  to 
operate  :  as  to  prescribe  him  that  every  three  days,  if 
he  find  not  the  success  apparent,  he  do  use  another 
root,  or  part  of  a  beast,  or  ring,  etc.  as  being  of  more 
force ;  and  if  that  fail,  another  ;  and  if  that,  another, 
till  seven  times.  Also  you  must  prescribe  a  good 
large  time  for  the  effect  you  promise  ;  as  if  you  should 
tell  a  servant  of  a  sick  man  that  his  master  shall 
recover,  but  it  will  be  fourteen  days  ere  he  findeth  it 
apparently,  etc.  All  this  to  entertain  the  imagina- 
tion that  it  waver  less. 

954.  IT  is  certain,  that  potions,  or  things  taken 
into  the  body  ;  incenses  and  perfumes  taken  at  the 
nostrils ;  and  ointments  of  some  parts,  do  naturally 
work  upon  the  imagination  of  him  that  taketh  them. 
And  therefore  it  must  needs  greatly  co-operate  with 
the  imagination  of  him  whom  you  use,  if  you  pre- 
scribe him,  before  he  do  use  the  receipt,  for  the  work 
which  he  desireth,  that  he  do  take  such  a  pill,  or 
a  spoonful  of  liquor ,  or  burn  such  an  incense ;  or 
anoint  his  temples,  or  the  soles  of  his  feet,  with  such 
an   ointment   or  oil :  and  you  must  choose,  for  the 
composition  of  such  pill,  perfume  or  ointment,  such 
ingredients  as  do  make  the  spirits  a  little  more  gross 
or  muddy  j  whereby   the    imagination   will   fix   the 

955.  THE  body  passive,  and  to  be  wrought  upon, 
I  mean  not  of  the  imaginant,  is  better  wrought  upon, 
as  hath  been  partly  touched,  at  some  times  than  at 
others  :  as  if  you  should  prescribe  a  servant  about  a 
sick  person,  whom  you  have  possessed  that  his  master 
shall  recover,  when  his  master  is  fast  asleep,  to  use 
such  a  root,  or  such  a  root.     For  imagination  is  like 
to  work  better  upon  sleeping  men,  than  men  awake  -r 
as  we  shall  shew  when  we  handle  dreams. 

956.  WE  find   in  the  art  of  memory,  that  images 
visible    work  better  than  other  conceits  :  as  if  you 
would  remember  the  word  philosophy,  you  shall  more 

64  Natural  Ilistory.  [Cent.  X. 

surely  do  it,  by  imagining,  that  such  a  man,  for  men 
are  best  places,  is  reading  upon  Aristotle's  Physics; 
than  if  you  should  imagine  him  to  say,  "  I'll  go  study 
"  philosophy."  And  therefore  this  observation  should 
be  translated  to  the  subject  we  now  speak  of:  for 
the  more  lustrous  the  imagination  is,  it  filleth  and 
fixeth  the  better.  And  therefore  I  conceive,  that  you 
shall,  in  that  experiment,  whereof  we  spake  before, 
of  binding  of  thoughts,  less  fail,  if  you  tell  one  that 
such  an  one  shall  name  one  of  twenty  men,  than  if 
it  were  one  of  twenty  cards.  The  experiment  of 
binding  of  thoughts  would  be  diversified  and  tried  to 
the  full :  and  you  are  to  note,  whether  it  hit  for  the 
most  part,  though  not  always. 

957.  Ir  is  good  to  consider,  upon  what  things  ima^ 
gination  hath  most  force  :  and  the  rule,  as  I  con- 
ceive, is,  that  it  hath  most  force  upon  things  that 
have  the  lightest  and  easiest  motions.  And  therefore 
above  all,  upon  the  spirits  of  men  :  and  in  them,  upon 
such  affections  as  move  lightest ;  as  upon  procuring 
of  love  ;  binding  of  lust,  which  is  ever  with  imagina- 
tion ;  upon  men  in  fear ;  or  men  in  irresolution ;  and 
the  like.  Whatsoever  is  of  this  kind  should  be  tho- 
roughly inquired.  Trials  likewise  should  be  made 
upon  plants,  and  that  diligently :  as  if  you  should  tell 
a  man,  that  such  a  tree  would  die  this  year  ;  and  -will 
him  at  these  and  these  times  to  go  unto  it,  to  see  how 
it  thriveth.  As  for  inanimate  tilings,  it  is  true,  that 
the  motions  of  shuffling  of  cards,  or  casting  of  dice, 
are  very  *ht  motions :  and  there  is  a  folly  very  usual, 
that  gamesters  imagine,  that  some  that  stand  by  them 
bring  them  ill  luck.  There  should  be  trial  also  made, 
of  holding  a  ring  by  a  thread  in  a  glass,  and  telling 
him  that  holdeth  it,  before,  that  it  shall  strike  so  many 
times  against  the  side  of  the  glass,  and  no  more ;  or 
of  holding  a  key  between  two  mens  fingers,  without 
a  charm ;  and  to  tell  those  that  hold  it,  that  at  such 
a  name  it  shall  go  off  their  ringers :  for  these  two 
are  extreme  light  motions.  And  howsoever  I  have 
no  opinion  of  these  things,  yet  so  much  I  conceive  to 
be  true  ;  That  strong  imagination  hath  more  force 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  65 

upon  things  living,  or  that  have  been  living,  than 
things  merely  inanimate  :  and  more  force  likewise 
upon  light  and  subtile  motions,  than  upon  motions 
vehement  or  ponderous. 

958.  IT  is  an  usual  observation,  that  if  the  body  of 
one  murdered  be  brought  before  the  murderer,  the 
wounds  will  bleed  afresh.     Some  do  affirm,  that  the 
dead  body,  upon  the  presence  of  the  murderer,  haft 
opened  the  eyes;  and  that  there  have  been  such  like 
motions,  as  well  where  the  parties  murdered  have 
been  strangled  or  drowned,  as  where  they  have  been 
killed  by  wounds.     It  may  be,  that  this  participateth 
of  a  miracle,  by  God's  just  judgment,  who  usually 
bringeth  murders  to  light:  but  if  it  be  natural,  it 
must  be  referred  to  imagination. 

959.  THE  tying  of  the  point  upon  the  day  of  mar- 
riage, to  make  men  impotent  towards  their  wives, 
which,  as  we  have  formerly  touched,  is  so  frequent  in 
Zant  and  Gascony,  if  it  be  natural,  must  be  referred 
to  the  imagination  of  him  that  tieth  the  point.  I  con- 
ceive it  to  have  the  less  affinity  with  witchcraft,  be- 
cause not  peculiar  persons  only,  such  as  witches  are, 
but  any  body  may  do  it. 

Experiments  in  consort  touching  the  secret  virtue  of 
sympathy  and  antipathy. 

960.  THERE  be  many  things  that  work  upon  the 
spirits  of  man  by  secret  sympathy  and  antipathy  :  the 
virtues  of  precious  stones  worn,  have  been  anciently 
and  generally  received,  and  curiously  assigned  to  work 
several  effects.     So  much  is  true  ;  that  stones  have  in 
them  fine  spirits,  as  appeareth  by  their  splendor  y  and 
therefore  they  may  work  by  consent  upon  the  spirits 
of  men,  to  comfort  and  exhilarate  them.    Those  that 
are  the  best,  for  that  effect,  are  the  diamond,  the 
emerald,  the  hyacinth  oriental,  and  the  gold  stone, 
which  is  the  yellow  topaz.     As  for  their  particular 
proprieties,  there  is  no  credit  to  be  given  to  them. 
But  it  is  manifest,  that  light,  above  all  things,  ex- 
celleth  in  comforting  the    spirits  of  men  :  and  it  is 
very  probable,  that  light  varied  doth  the  same  effect, 

VOL.  II.  F 

66  Natural  History,  [Cent.  X, 

with  more  novelty.  And  this  is  one  of  the  causes 
why  precious  stones  comfort.  And  therefore  it  were 
good  to  have  tinctured  lanthorns,  or  tinctured  screens, 
of  glass  coloured  into  green,  blue,  carnation,  crimson, 
purple,  etc.  and  to  use  them  with  candles  in  the  night. 
So  likewise  to  have  round  glasses,  not  only  of  glass 
coloured  through,  but  with  colours  laid  between, 
crystals,  with  handles  to  hold  in  one's  hand.  Prisms 
are  also  comfortable  things.  They  have  of  Paris^ 
work,  looking-glasses,  bordered  with  broad  borders 
of  small  crystal,  and  great  counterfeit  precious  stones 
of  all  colours,  that  are  most  glorious  and  pleasant  to 
behold  ;  especially  in  the  night.  The  pictures  of 
Indian  feathers  are  likewise  comfortable  and  pleasant 
to  behold.  So  also  fair  and  clear  pools  do  greatly 
comfort  the  eyes  and  spirits,  especially  when  the  sun 
is  not  glaring,  but  over-cast ;  or  when  the  moon 

961.  THERE  be  divers  sorts  of  bracelets  fit  to  com? 
fort  the  spirits  ;  and  they  be  of  three  intentions :    re* 
frigerant,  corroborant,  and  aperient.     For  refrigerant, 
I  wish  them  to  be  of  pearl,  or  of  coral,  as  is  used ; 
and  it  hath  been  noted  that  coral,  'if  the  party  that 
weareth  it  be  indisposed,  will  wax  pale  ;  which  I  be- 
lieve to  be  true,  because  otherwise  disteniper  of  heat 
will  make  coral  lose  colour.     I  commend  also  beads, 
or  little  plates  of  lapis  lazuli ;  and   beacjs  of  nitre, 
either  alone,  or  with  some  cordial  mixture. 

962.  FOR   corroboration    and    comfortation,    take 
such  bodies  as  are  of  astringent  quality,  without  ma- 
nifest cold.     I  commend  bead-amber,  which  is  full 
of  astriction,  but  yet  is  unctuous,  and  not  cold  ;  and 
is    conceived  to  impjnguate    those    that   wear    such 
beads:  1  commend  also  beads  of  hartshorn  and  ivory; 
which  are  of  the  like  nature;  also  orange  beads;  also 
beads  of  lignum  aloes,  macerated  first  in  rose-water, 
and  dried. 

9£3.  FOR  opening,  I  commend  beads,  or  pieces 
of  the  roots  of-  cardnus  benedictus  :  also  of  the  roots 
of  piony  the  male  ;  and  of  orrice -,  and  of  calamus  aru~ 
malleus  s  and  of  ruef 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  67 

964-.  THE  cramp,  no  doubt,  cometh  of  contraction 
of  sinews ;  which  is  manifest,  in  that  it  cometh  either 
by  cold  or  dryness ;  as  after  consumptions,  and  long 
agues  ;  for  cold  and  dryness  do,  both  of  them,  con- 
tract and  corrugate.  We  see  also,  that  chafing  a  little 
above  the  place  in  pain,  easeth  the  cramp  ;  which  is 
wrought  by  the  dilatation  of  the  contracted  sinews  by 
heat.  There  are  in  use,  for  the  prevention  of  the 
cramp,  two  things ;  the  one  rings  of  sea-horse  teeth 
worn  upon  the  fingers  :  the  other  bands  of  green 
periwinkle,  the  herb,  tied  about  the  calf  of  the  leg, 
or  the  thigh,  etc.  where  the  cramp  useth  to  come.  I 
do  find  this  the  more  strange,  because  neither  of  these 
have  any  relaxing  virtue,  but  rather  the  contrary.  I 
judge  therefore,  that  their  working  is  rather  upon  the 
spirits,  within  the  nerves,  to  make  them  strive  less, 
than  upon  the  bodily  substance  of  the  nerves. 

965.  I  would  have  trial  made  of  two  other  kinds  of 
bracelets,  for   comforting  the  heart   and  spirits :  the 
one  of  the  trochisk  of  vipers,   made  into  little  pieces 
of  beads  ;    for  since    they  do  great   good    inwards, 
especially  for  pestilent  agues,  it  is  like  they  will  be 
•effectual    outwards ;   where  they  may  be  applied  in 
greater  quantity.     There  should  be  trochisk  likewise 
made  of  snakes  ;  whose  flesh  dried  is  thought  to  have 
a  very  opening  and  cordial  virtue.     The  other  is,  of 
beads  made  of  the  scarlet  powder,  which  they  call 
kcrmts  ;  which    is    the  principal  ingredient   in   their 
cordial    confection    alkermes :    the    beads   should    be 
made  up  with  ambergrease,  and  some  pomander. 

966.  IT  hath  been  long  received  and  confirmed  by 
divers  trials,  that  the  root  ot  the  male-piony  dried,  tied 
to  the  neck,  doth  help  the  falling  sickness ;  and  like- 
wise the  incubus,  which  we  call  the  mare.  The  cause 
of  both  these  diseases,  and  especially  of  the  epilepsy 
from    the    stomach,   is  the   grossness  of  the  vapours 
which  rise  and  enter  into  the  cells  of  the  brain:  and 
therefore  the  working  is  by  extreme  and  subtile  at- 
tenuation ;  which    that    simple    hath.       I  judge   the 
like  to  be  in  castorcum,  musk,  rue-seed,  agmts  castus 
seed,  etc* 

F  (2 

68  Natural  History.  [Cent.  X. 

967.  THERE  is  a  stone  which  they  call  the  blood- 
stone, which  worn  is  thought  to  be  good  for  them  that 
bleed  at  the  nose :  which,  no  doubt,  is  by  astriction 
and  cooling  of  the  spirits.     2ue?y,  if  the  stone  taken 
out  of  the  toad's  head,  be  not  of  the  like  virtue  ;  for 
the  toad  loveth  shade  and  coolness. 

968.  LIGHT  may  be  taken  from  the  experiment  of 
the  horse-tooth  ring,  and  the  garland  of  periwinkle, 
how  that  those  things  which  assuage  the  strife  of  the 
spirits,  do  help  diseases  contrary  to  the  intention  de- 
sired :  for  in  the  curing  of  the  cramp,  the  intention  is 
to  relax  the  sinews ;  but  the  contraction  of  the  spirits, 
that  they  strive  less,  is  the  best  help:  so  to  procure 
easy  travails  of  women,  the  intention  is  to  bring  down 
the  child ;  but  the  best  help  is,  to  stay  the  coming 
down  too  fast :  whereunto  they  say,  the  toad-stone 
likewise  helpeth.     So   in  pestilent  fevers,  the  inten- 
tion is  to  expel  the  infection  by  sweat  and  evapora- 
tion :  but  the  best  means  to  do  it  is  by  nitre,  diascor- 
dium,  and  other  cool  things,  which  do  for  a  time  ar- 
rest the  expulsion,  till  nature  can  do  it  more  quietly. 
For  as  one  saith  prettily;  "  In  the  quenching  of  the 
"  flame  of  a  pestilent  ague,  nature  is  like  people  that 
"  come  to  quench  the  fire  of  a  house  ;  which  are  so 
"  busy,  as  one    of  them  letteth    another.5*      Surely 
it  is  an  excellent  axiom,  and  of  manifold  use,  that 
whatsoever  appeaseth   the  contention  of  the  spirits, 
furthereth  their  action. 

969.  THE  writers  of  natural  magic  commend  the 
wearing  of  the    spoil    of  a  snake,  for  preserving  of 
health.     I  doubt   it  is  but  a   conceit;  for  that  the 
snake  is  thought  to  renew  her  youth,  by  casting  her 
spoil.     They  might  as  well  take  the  beak  of  an  eagle, 
or  a  piece  of  a  hart's  horn,  because  those  renew. 

970.  IT  hath  been  anciently  received,  for  Pericles 
the  Athenian  used  it,  and   it  is  yet   in  use,  to  wear 
little  bladders  of  quicksilver,  or  tablets  of  arsenic,  as 
preservatives  against  the  plague:  not  as  they  con- 
ceive for  any  comfort  they  yield  to  the  spirits,  but  for 
that  being  poisons  themselves,  they  draw  the  venom 
to  them  from  the  spirits. 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  69 

971.  VIDE  the  experiments  95,  96,  and  97,  touch- 
ing the  several   sympathies  and  antipathies  for  me- 
dicinal use. 

972.  IT  is  said,  that  the  guts  or  skin  of  a  wolf 
being  applied  to  the  belly,  do  cure  the  colic.     It  is 
true,  that  the  wolf  is  a  beast  of  great  edacity  and  di- 
gestion ;  and  so  it  may  be  the  parts  of  him  comfort 
the  bowels. 

973.  WE  see  scare-crows  are  set  up  to  keep  birds 
from  corn  and  fruit ;  it  is  reported  by  some,  that  the 
head  of  a  wolf,  whole,  dried,  and  hanged  up  in  a 
dove-house,  will  scare  away  vermin ;    such   as   are 
weasles,  pole-cats,  and  the  like.     It  may  be  the  head 
of  a  dog  will  do  as  much ;  for  those  vermin  with  us, 
know  dogs  better  than  wolves. 

974.  THE  brains  of  some  creatures,  when  their  heads 
are  roasted,  taken  in  wine,  are  said  to  strengthen  the 
memory  ;  as  the  brains  of  hares,  brains  of  hens,  brains 
of  deers,  etc.     And  it  seemeth  to  be  incident  to  the 
brains  of  those  creatures  that  are  fearful. 

975.  THE  ointment  that  witches  use,  is  reported  to 
be  made  of  the  fat  of  children  digged  out  of  their 
graves;  of  the  juices    of  smallage,    wolf-bane,    and 
cinque-foil,  mingled  with   the  meal  of  fine  wheat. 
But  I  suppose,    that  the  soporiferous  medicines  are 
likest  to  do  it;  which  are  henbane,   hemlock,  man- 
drake, moonshade,  tobacco,  opium,  saffron,  poplar- 
leaves,  etc. 

976.  IT  is  reported  by  some,  that  the  affections  of 
beasts  when  they  are  in  strength  do  add  some  virtue 
unto  inanimate  things ;  as  that  the  skin  of  a  sheep  de- 
voured by  a  wolf,  moveth  itching  ;  that  a  stone  bitten 
by  a  dog  in  anger,  being  thrown  at  him,  drunk  in  pow- 
der, provoketh  choler. 

977.  IT  hath  been  observed  that  the  diet  of  women 
with  child  doth  work  much  upon  the  infant;  as  if  the 
mother  eat  quinces  much,  and  coriander-seed,  the  na- 
ture of  both  which  is  to  repress  and  stay  vapours  that 
ascend  to  the  brain,  it  will  make  the  child  ingenious: 
and  on   the  contrary  side,  if  the   mother  eat  much 
onions  or  beans,  or   such  vaporous  food;  or  drink 

70  Natural  History.  [Cent.  X. 

wine, or  strong  drink  immoderately  ;  or  fast  much;  or 
be  given  to  much  musing;  all  which  send  or  draw 
vapours  to  the  head  ;  it  endangereth  the  child  to  be- 
come lunatic,  or  of  imperfect  memory:  and  I  make 
the  same  judgment  of  tobacco  often  taken  by  the  mo- 

978.  THE  writers  of  natural  magic  report,  that  the 
heart  of  an  ape,  worn   near  the  heart  comforteth  the 
heart,  and  increaseth  audacity.  It  is  true  that  the  ape  is 
a  merry  and  bold  beast.  And  that  the  same  heart  like- 
wise of  an  ape,  applied  to  the  neck  or  head,  helpeth 
the  wit;  and  is  good  for  the  falling  sickness  :  the  ape 
also  is  a  witty  beast,  and  hath  a  dry  brain ;  which 
may  be  some  cause  of  attenuation  of  vapours  in  the 
head.     Yet  it  is  said  to  move  dreams  also.     It  may 
be  the  heart  of  a  man  would  do  more,  but  that  it  is 
more  against  men's  minds  to  use  it;  except  it  be  in 
such  as  wear  the  reliques  of  saints. 

979.  THE  flesh  of  a  hedge-hog,  dressed  and  eaten, 
is  said  to  be  a  great  drier:  it  is  true  that  the  juice  of  a 
hedge-hog    must  needs  be  harsh  and  dry,  because  it 
putteth  forth  so  many  prickles  :  for  plants  also  that  are 
full  of  prickles  are  generally  dry  ;  as  briars,  thorns, 
berberries  ;  and  therefore  the  ashes  of  an  hedge-hog 
are  said  to  be  a  great  desiccative  of  fistulas. 

980.  MUMMY    hath   great  force    in    stanching  of 
blood  ;  which,  as  it  may  be  ascribed  to  the  mixture 
of  balms  that  are  glutinous;  so  it  may  also  partake  of 
a  secret  propriety,   in  that  the  blood  draweth  man's 
flesh.  And  it  is  approved  that  the  moss  which  groweth 
upon  the  skull  of  a  dead  man  unburied,  will  stanch 
blood  potently :  and  so   do  the  dregs,  or  powder  of 
blqod,  severed  from  the  water,  and  dried. 

981.  IT  hath  been  practised,  to  make  white  swal<- 
lows,  by  anointing  of  the  eggs  with  oil.     Which  ef- 
fect may  be  produced,  by  the  stopping  of  the  pores  of 
the  shell,  and  making  the  juice  that  putteth  forth  the 
feathers  afterwards  more  penurious.     And  it  may  be, 
the  anointing  of  the  eggs  v.  ill  be  as  effectual  as  the 
anointing  of  the  body;  of  which  vide  the  experiment 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  His  ton).  71 

982.  IT  is  reported*  that  the  white  of  an  egg,  or 
bloodj  mingled  With  salt-water,  doth  gather  the  salt-, 
ness,  and  maketh  the  water  sweeter.     This  may  be  by 
adhesion  ;  as  in  the  sixth  experiment  of  clarification  : 
it  may  be  also,  that  blood,  and  the  white  of  an  egg, 
which  is  the  matter  of  a  living  creature,  have  some  sym- 
pathy  with   salt :  for  all  life  hath  a  sympathy  with 
salt.     We  see  that  salt  laid  to  a  cut  finger  healeth  it; 
so  as  it    seemeth    salt   draweth  blood,  as   well    as 
blood  draweth  salt. 

983.  IT  hath  been  anciently  received,  that  the  sea- 
hare  hath  an  antipathy  with  the  lungs,  if  it  Cometh 
near   the  body,  and  erodeth    them.      Whereof  the 
cause  is  conceived   to  be,  a  quality  it  hath  of  heating 
the  breath  and  spirits;  as  cantharides  have  upon  the 
watery  parts  of  the  body,  as  urine  and  hydropical  wa- 
ter.    And  it  is  a  good  rule,  that  whatsoever  hath  an 
operation    upon   certain    kinds  of  matters,  that,    in 
man's  body,  worketh  most  upon  those  parts  wherein 
that  kind  of  matter  aboundetru 

984.  GENERALLY  that  which  is  dead  or  corrupted, 
or  exerned,  hath  antipathy  with  the  same  thing  when 
it  is  alive,  and  when  it  is  sound  ;  and  with  those  parts 
which  do  excern  :  as  a  carcase  of  man  is  most  infec- 
tious and  odious  to  man ;  a  carrion  of  an  horse  to  a 
horse,  etc.  purulent  matter   of  wounds,  and  ulcers, 
carbuncles,  pocks,  scabs,  leprosy,  to  sound  flesh;  and 
the  excrement  of  e  very  sgecies  to  that  creature  that  ex- 
cerneth  them  :   but  the  excrements  are  less  pernicious 
than  the  corruptions. 

985.  IT  is  a  common  experience,  that  dogs  know 
the  dog-killer;  when,  as  in  times  of  infection,  some 
petty  fellow  is  sent  out  to  kill  the  dogs;   and  that 
though  they  have  never  seen  him  before,  yet  they  will 
all  come  forth,  and  bark,  and  fly  at  him. 

986.  THE  relations  touching  the  force  of  imagina- 
tion, and  the  secret  instincts  of  nature,  are  so  uncer- 
tain, as  they  require  a  great  deal  of  examination  ere 
we  conclude  upon  them.     I  would  have    it  first  tho- 
roughly inquired,   whether  there  be  any  secret  pas* 
sages  of  sympathy  between  persons  of  near  blood  5  as 

72  Natural  History.  [Cent.  X. 

parents,  children,  brothers,  sisters, nurse-children,  hus- 
band s, wives,  etc.  There  be  many  reports  in  history,  that 
upon  the  death  of  persons  of  such  nearness,  men  have 
had  an  inward  feeling  of  it.  I  myself  remember,  that 
being  in  Paris,  and  my  father  dying  in  London,  two 
or  three  days  before  my  father's  death,  I  had  a  dream, 
which  I  told  to  divers  English  gentlemen;  that  rny 
father's  house  in  the  country  was  plastered  all  over 
with  black  mortar.  There  is  an  opinion  abroad, 
whether  idle  or  no  I  cannot  say,  that  loving  and  kind 
husbands  have  a  sense  of  their  wives  bree-ding  chil- 
dren, by  some  accident  in  their  own  body. 

987.  NEXT  to  those   that  are  near  in  blood,  there 
may  be  the  like  passage,  and  instincts  of  nature,  be- 
tween great  friends  and  enemies  :  and  sometimes  the 
revealing  is  unto  another  person,  and  not  to  the  party 
himself.     I  remember  Philippus  Commineus,  a  grave 
writer,  reporteth,  that  the  archbishop  of  Vienna,   a 
reverend  prelate,  said  one   day  after   mass  to  king 
Lewis  the  eleventh  of  France  :  "  Sir,  your  mortal  ene- 
KC  my  is  dead  ;"  what  time  duke  Charles  of  Burgundy 
was  slain  at  the  battle    of  Granson  against  the  Swit- 
zers.     Some  trial  also  should  be  made,  whether  pact 
or  agreement  do  any  thing ;  as  if  two  friends  should 
agree,  that  such  a  day  in  every  week,  they  being  in 
far  distant  places,  should  pray  one  for  another ;  or 
should  put  on  a  ring  or  tablet  one  for  another's  sake; 
whether  if  one  of  them  should  break  their  vow  and 
promise,  the  other  should  have  any   feeling  of  it  in 

988.  IF  there  be  any  force  in  imaginations  and  af- 
fections of  singular  persons,  it  is  probable  the  force 
is  much  more  in  the  joint  imaginations  and  affections 
of  multitudes  :  as  if  a  victory  should  be  won  or  lost  in 
remote  parts,  whether  is  there  not  some  sense  thereof 
in  the  people  whom  it  concerneth ;  because  of  the 
great  joy  or  grief  that  many  men  are  possessed  with  at 
once  ?     Pius  Quintus,  at  the  very  time  when  that  me- 
morable victory    w;is  won  by  the  Christians    against 
the  Turks,  at  the  naval  battle  of  Lepanto,  being  then 
hairing  of.  causes  in  consistory,  brake  off  suddenly, 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  73 

and  said  to  those  about  him,  "  It  is  now  more  time 
"  we  should  give  thanks  to  God,  for  the  great  vic- 
"  tory  he  hath  granted  us  against  the  Turks:"  it  is 
true,  that  victory  had  a  sympathy  with  his  spirit ;  for 
it  was  merely  his  work  to  conclude  that  league.  It 
may  be  that  revelation  was  divine ;  but  what  shall 
we  say  then  to  a  number  of  examples  amongst  the 
Grecians  and  Romans  ?  where  the  people  being  in 
theatres  at  plays,  have  had  news  of  victories  and  over- 
throws, some  few  days  before  any  messenger  could 

IT  is  true,  that  that  may  hold  in  these  things,  which 
is  the  general  root  of  superstition :  namely,  that  men 
observe  when  things  hit,  and  not  when  they  miss ;  and 
commit  to  memory  the  one,  and  forget  and  pass  over 
the  other.  But  touching  divination,  and  the  misgiv- 
ing of  minds,  we  shall  speak  more  when  we  handle 
in  general  the  nature  of  minds,  and  souls,  and  spirits. 

989.  WE  have  given  formerly  some  rules  of  imagi- 
nation; and  touching  the  fortifying  of  the  same.     We 
have  set  down  also  some  few  instances  and  directions, 
of  the  force  of  imagination  upon  beasts,  birds,  etc. 
upon  plants,  and  upon  inanimate  bodies :  wherein  you 
must  still  observe,  that  your  trials  be  upon  subtle  and 
light  motions,  and  not  the   contrary  ;  for   you  will 
sooner  by  imagination  bind  a  bird  from  singing,  than 
from  eating  or  Hying :  and  I  leave  it  to  every  man,  to 
choose  experiments,  which  himself  thinketh  most  com- 
modious; giving  now  but  a  few  examples  of  every  of 
the  three  kinds. 

990.  USE  some  imaginant,  observing  the  rules  for- 
merly prescribed,  for  binding  of  a  bird  from  singing  ; 
and  the  like  of  a  dog  from  barking.     Try  also  the 
imagination  of  some,  whom  you  shall  accommodate 
with  things  to  fortify  it,  in  cock-fights,  to  make  one 
cock  more  hardy,  and  the  other  more  cowardly.     It 
should  be  tried  also  in  flying  of  hawks  ;  or  in  coursing 
of  a  deer,  or  hare,  with    greyhounds:   or  in  horse- 
races ;  and    the   like   comparative    motions :  for  you 
may  sooner  by  imagination    quicken    or  slack  a  mo-? 
tion,  than  raise  or  cease  it ;  as  it  is  easier  to  make  a 

74  Katural  History*  [Cent.  X. 

dog  go  slower,  than  to  make  him  stand  still,  that  he 
may  not  run. 

991.  IN  plants  also  you  may  try  the  force  of  imagi- 
nation upon  the  lighter  sort  of  motions  :  as  upon  the 
sudden  fading,  or  lively  coining  up  of  herbs  ;  or  upon 
their  bending  one  way  or  other;  or  upon  their  closing 
and  opening,  etc. 

992.  FOR  inanimate  things  you  may  try  the  force 
of  imagination,  upon   staying  the   working   of  beer 
when  the  barm  is  put  in ;  or  upon  the  coming  of  butter 
or  cheese,  after  the  churning,  or  the  rennet  be  put  in. 

993.  IT  is  an  ancient  tradition   every  where  al- 
Jedged,  for  example  of  secret  proprieties  and  influxes, 
that  the  torpedo  marina,  if  it  be  touched  with  a  long 
stick,  doth  stupify  the  hand  of  him  that  toucheth  it* 
It  is  one  degree  of  working  at  distance,  to  work  by 
the  continuance  of  a  fit  medium;  as  sound  will  be 
conveyed  to  the  ear,  by  striking  upon  a  bow-string, 
if  the  horn  of  the  bow  be  held  to  the  ear. 

994.  THE  writers    of   natural  magic  do  attribute 
much  to  the  virtues  that  come  from  the  parts  of  living 
creatures ;  so  as  they  be  taken  from  them,  the  crea- 
tures remaining  still  alive  :  as  if  the  creatures  still  living 
did  infuse  some  immateriate  virtue  and  vigour  into  the 
part  severed.     So  much  may  be  true ;  that  any  part 
taken  from  a  living  creature  newly  slain,  may  be  of 
greater  force,  than  if  it  were  taken  from  the  like  crea- 
ture dying  of  itself,  because  it  is  fuller  of  spirit. 

995.  TRIAL  should  be  made  of  the  like  parts  of  in- 
dividuals in  plants  and  living  creatures;  as  to  cut  off 
a  stock  of  a  tree,  and  to  lay  that  which  you  cut  off 
to  putrify,  to  see  whether  it  will  decay  the  rest  of  the 
stock :  or  if  you  should  cut  off  part  of  the  tail  or  leg  of 
a  dog  or  a  cat,  and  lay  it  to  putrify,  and  so  see  whe- 
ther it  will  fester  or  keep  from  healing  the  part  which 

996.  IT  is  received,  that   it   helpeth  to  continue 
love,  if  one  wear  a  ring,  or  a  bracelet,  of  the  hair  of 
the  party  beloved.     But  that  may  be  by  the  exciting 
of  the  imagination :  and  perhaps  a  glove,  or  other  like 
favour,  may  as  well  do  it. 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  75 

997.  THE  sympathy  of  individuals,  that  have  been 
entire,  or  have  touched,  is  of  all  others  the  most  in- 
credible: yet  according  to  our  faithful  .manner  of  ex- 
amination of  nature,  we  will  make  some  little  men- 
tion of  it.   The  taking  away  of  warts,  by  rubbing  them 
with  somewhat  that  afterwards   is  put  to  waste  and 
consume,  is  a  common  experiment ;  and  I  do  appre- 
hend it  the  rather  because  of  my  own  experience.     I 
had  from  my  childhood  a  wart  upon  one  of  my  fingers: 
afterwards,  when  I  was  about  sixteen  years  old,  be^ 
ing  then  at  Paris,  there  grew  upon  both  my  hands  a 
number  of  warts,  at  the  least  an  hundred,  in  a  month's 
space.     The  English  ambassador's  lady,  who  was  a 
woman  far  from  superstition,  told   me  one  day,    she 
would  help  me  away  with  my  warts  :  whereupon  she 
got  a  piece  of  lard  with  the  skin  on,  and  rubbed  the 
warts  all  over  with  the  fat  side ;  and  amongst  the  rest, 
that  wart  which  I  had  had  from  my  childhood :  then 
she  nailed  the  piece  of  lard,  with  the  fat  towards  the 
sun,  upon  a  post  of  her  chamber  window,  which  was 
to  the  south.  The  success  was,  that  within  five  weeks 
space  all  the  warts  went  quite  away  :  and  that  wart 
which  1  had  so  long  endured,  for  company.     But  at 
the  rest  1  did  little  marvel,  because  they  came  in  a 
short  time,  and  might  go  away  in  a  short  time  again  : 
but  the  going  away  of  that  which  had  stayed  so  long 
doth  yet  stick  with  me.     They  say  the  like  is  done  by 
the   rubbing  of  warts  with  a  green  alder  stick,  and 
then  burying  the  stick  to  rot  in  muck.     It  should  be 
tried  with  corns   and  wens,    and   such  other  excre- 
scences.    I  would  have  it  also  tried  with  some  parts 
of  living  creatures,  that  are  nearest  the  nature  of  ex- 
crescences ;  as  the  combs  of  cocks,  the  spurs  of  cocks, 
the  horns  of  beasts,  etc.     And  I  would  have  it  tried 
both  ways  ;  both  by  rubbing  those  parts  with  lard,  or 
alder,  as  before  ;  and   by  cutting  off  some  piece  of 
.those  parts,  and  laying  it  to  -consume  :  to  see  whether 
it  will  work  any  effect  towards  the  consumption  of 
that  part  which  was  once  joined  with  it. 

998.  IT  is  constantly  received  and  avouched,  that 
the  anointing  of  the  weapon  that  maketh  the  -wound, 

76  Natural  History.  [Cent.  !X. 

will  heal  the  wound  itself.  In  this  experiment,  upon 
the  relation  of  men  of  credit,  though  myself,  as  yet, 
am  not  fully  inclined  to  believe  it,  you  shall  note  the 
points  following  :  first,  the  ointment  wherewith  this 
is  done,  is  made  of  divers  ingredients ;  whereof  the 
strangest  and  hardest  to  come  by,  are  the  moss  upon 
the  skull  of  a  dead  man  unburied ;  and  the  fats  of  a 
boar  and  a  bear  killed  in  the  act  of  generation.  These 
two  last  I  could  easily  suspect  to  be  prescribed  -as  a 
starting-hole;  that  if  the  experiment  proved  not,  it 
might  be  pretended  that  the  beasts  were  not  killed  in 
the  due  time ;  for  as  for  the  moss,  it  is  certain  there 
is  great  quantity  of  it  in  Ireland,  upon  slain  bodies, 
laid  on  heaps  unburied.  The  other  ingredients  are, 
the  blood-stone  in  powder,  and  some  other  things, 
which  seem  to  have  a  virtue  to  stanch  blood ;  as  also 
the  moss  hath.  And  the  description  of  the  whole 
ointment  is  to  be  found  in  the  chemical  dispensatory 
of  Crollius.  Secondly,  the  same  kind  of  ointment 
applied  to  the  hurt  itself  worketh  not  the  effect ;  but 
only  applied  to  the  weapon.  Thirdly,  which  I  like 
well,  they  do  not  observe  the  confecting  of  the  oint- 
ment under  any  certain  constellation  \  which  com- 
monly is  the  excuse  of  magical  medicines  when  they 
fail,  that  they  were  not  made  under  a  fit  figure  of  hea- 
ven. Fourthly,  it  may  be  applied  to  the  weapon, 
though  the  party  hurt  be  at  great  distance.  Fifthly, 
it  seemeth  the  imagination  of  the  party  to  be  cured  is 
not  needful  to  concur ;  for  it  may  be  done  without  the 
knowledge  of  the  party  wounded :  and  thus  much  has 
been  tried,  that  the  ointment  for  experiment's  sake, 
hath  been  wiped  off  the  weapon,  without  the  know- 
Jedge  of  the  party  hurt,  and  presently  the  party  hurt 
has  been  in  great  rage  of  pain,  till  the  weapon  was  re- 
anointed.  Sixthly,  it  is  affirmed,  that  if  you  cannot 
get  the  weapon,  yet  if  you  put  an  instrument  of  iron 
or  wood,  resembling  the  weapon,  into  the  wound, 
whereby  it  bleedeth,  the  anointing  of  that  instrument 
will  serve  and  work  the  effect.  This  I  doubt  should 
be  a  device  to  keep  this  strange  form  of  cure  in  re- 
quest and  .use  :  because  many  times  you  cannot  come 

Cent.  X.]  Natural  History.  77 

by  the  weapon  itself.  Seventhly,  the  wound  must  be 
at  first  washed  clean  with  white  wine,  or  the  party's 
own  water;  and  then  bound  up  close  in  fine  linen, 
and  no  more  dressing  renewed  till  it  be  whole. 
Eighthly,  the  sword  itself  must  be  wrapped  up  close, 
as  far  as  the  ointment  goeth,  that  it  taketh  no  wind. 
Ninthly,  the  ointment,  if  you  wipe  it  off  from  the 
sword  and  keep  it,  will  serve  again  ;  and  rather 
increase  in  virtue  than  diminish.  Tenthly,  it  will 
cure  in  far  shorter  time,  than  ointments  of  wounds 
commonly  do.  Lastly,  it  will  cure  a  beast  as  well 
as  a  man ;  which  I  like  best  of  all  the  rest,  because 
it  subjecteth  the  matter  to  an  easy  trial. 

Experiment  solitary  touching  secret  proprieties. 

999.  I  WOULD  have  men  know,  that  though  I  re- 
prehend the  easy  passing  over  the  causes  of  things,  by 
ascribing  them  to  secret  and  hidden  virtues,  and  pro-* 
prieties,  for  this  hath  arrested  and  laid  asleep  all  true 
inquiry  and  indications,  yet  I  do  not  understand,  but 
that  in  the  practical  part  of  knowledge,  much  will  be 
left  to  experience  and  probation,  whereunto  indica- 
tion cannot  so  fully  reach  :  and  this  not  only  in  specie, 
but  in  individuo.  So  in  physic ;  if  you  will  cure  the 
jaundice,  it  is  not  enough  to  say,  that  the  medicine 
must  not  be  cooling;  for  that  will  hinder  the  opening 
which  the  disease  requireth  :  that  it  must  not  be  hot ; 
for  that  will  exasperate  choler:  that  it  must  go  to  the 
gall ;  for  there  is  the  obstruction  which  causeth  the 
disease,  etc.  But  you  must  receive  from  experience 
that  powder  of  Chamapytis,  or  the  like,  drunk  in  beer, 
is  good  for  the  jaundice.  So  again  a  wise  physician 
doth  not  continue  still  the  same  medicine  to  a  patient; 
but  he  will  vary,  if  the  first  medicine  doth  not  appa- 
rently succeed:  for  of  those  remedies  that  are  good  for 
the  jaundice,  stone,  agues,  etc.  that  will  do  good  in 
one  body,  which  will  not  do  good  in  another ;  ac- 
cording to  the  correspondence  the  medicine  hath  to 
the  individual  body. 

Natural  History.  [Cent .  X . 

Experiment  solitary  touching  the  general  sympathy  of 
mens  spirits. 

1000.  TIIK  delight  which  men  have  in  popularity, 
fame,  honour,  submission,  and  subjection  of  other 
mens  minds,  wills,  or  affections,  although  these  things 
may  be  desired  for  other  ends,  seemcth  to  be  a  thing 
in  itself,  without  contemplation  of  consequence,  grate- 
ful and  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  man.  This  thing, 
surely,  is  not  without  some  signification,  as  if  all  spi- 
rits and  souls  of  men  came  forth  out  of  one  divine 
limbus ;  else  why  should  men  be  so  much  affected  with 
that  which  others  think  or  say?  The  best  temper  of 
minds  desireth  good  name  and  true  honour:  the 
lighter,  popularity  and  applause  :  the  more  depraved, 
subjection  and  tyranny  ;  as  is  seen  in  great  conquerors 
and  troublers  of  the  world :  and  yet  more  in  arch- 
heretics  ;  for  the  introducing  of  new  doctrines  is  like- 
wise  an  affectation  of  tyranny  over  the  understandings 
and  beliefs  of  men. 





TlIIS  fable  my  lord  devised,  to  the  end  that  he  might 
exhibit  therein  a  model  or  description  of  a  college,  insti- 
tuted for  the  interpreting  of  nature,  and  the  producing 
of  great  and  marvellous  works  for  the  benefit  of  men  ; 
under  the  name  of  Solomon's  house,  or  the  College  of  th* 
six  days  works.  And  even  so  far  his  lordship  hath  pro- 
ceeded, as  to  finish  that  part.  Certainly  the  model  is 
more  vast  and  high,  than  can  possibly  be  imitated  in  all 
things;  notwithstanding  most  things  therein  are  within 
men'spozver  to  effect.  His  lordship  thought  also  in  this 
present  fable ,  to  have  composed  a  frame  of  laws,  or  of  the 
best  state  or  mould  of  a  commonwealth  ;  but  foreseeing 
it  would  be  a  long  work,  his  desire  of  collecting  the  Natu- 
ral History  diverted  him,  which  he  preferred  many  de- 
grees  before  it. 

Jlds  work  of  the  New  Atlantis,  as  much  as  concern- 
eth  the  E?iglish  edition,  his  lordship  designed  for  this 
place  ;  in  regard  it  hath  so  near  affinity,  in  one  part  of 
it,  zvith  the  preceding  Natural  History. 

W.  RAW  LEY. 


vV E  sailed  from  Peru,  where  we   had  continued 
by  the  space  of  one  whole  year,  for   China  and  Ja- 
pan,   by  the  South  Sea,  taking   with  us  victuals  for 
twelve  months;  and  had   good  winds  from  the  east, 
though    soft  and  weak,   for   five  months  space  and 
more.     But  then  the  wind  came  about,  and  settled  in 
the  west  for  many  days,  so  as  we  could  make  little  or 
no  way,  and  were  sometimes  in  purpose  to  turn  back. 
But  then  again  there  arose  strong  and  great  winds 
from  the  south,  with  a  point  east,  which  carried  us  up, 
for  all  that  we  could  do,  towards  the  north  :  by  which 
time  our  victuals  failed  us,  though  we  had  made  good 
spare  of  them.     So  that  finding  ourselves  in  the  midst 
of  the  greatest  wilderness  of  waters   in  the    world, 
without  victual,  we  gave  ourselves  for  lost  men,  and 
prepared  for  death.     Yet  we  did  lift  up  our  hearts 
and  voices  to  God  above,  who  sheweth  his  wonders  in 
the  deep;  beseeching  him  of  his  mercy,  that  as  in  the 
beginning  he  discovered  the  face  of  the  deep,  and 
brought  forth  dry  land ;  so  he  would  now  discover 
land  to   us,  that  we  might  not  perish.     And  it  came 
to  pass,  that   the  next  day  about  evening,    we    saw- 
within  a  kenning  before  us,  towards  the  north,  as  it 
were  thick  clouds,  which  did  put  us  in  some  hope  of 
land ;  knowing  how  that  part  of  the  South  Sea  was  ut- 
terly unknown  ;  and  might  have  islands  or  continents, 
that  hitherto  were  not  come  to  light.  Wherefore  we  bent 
our  course  thither,  where  we  saw  the  appearance  of 
land  all  that  night ;  and  in  the   dawning  of  the  next 
day,  we  might  plainly  discern  that  it  was  a  land,  flat 
to  our  sight,  and  full  of  boscage,  which  made  it  shew 
the  more  dark.     And  after  an  hour  and  a  half's  sail- 
ing, we  entered  into  a  good  haven,  being  the  port  of 
a  fair  city  i  not  great  indeed,  but  well  built,  and  that 
gave  a  pleasant  view  from  the  sea :  and  we  thinking 

VOL,  II.  Q 

82  Ktw  Atlantis. 

every  minute  long  till  we  were  on  land,  came  close  to 
the  shore,  and  offered  to  land.  But  straitways  we  saw 
divers  of  the  people  with  bastons  in  their  hands,  as  it 
were,  forbidding  us  to  land ;  yet  without  any  cries  or 
fierceness,  but  only  as  warning  us  off  by  signs  that 
they  made.  Whereupon  being  not  a  little  discom- 
forted, we  were  advising  with  ourselves  what  we 
should  do.  During  which  time  there  made  forth  to 
us  a  small  boat,  with  about  eight  persons  in  it ; 
whereof  one  of  them  had  in  his  hand  a  tipstaff  of  a 
yellow  cane,  tipped  at  both  ends  with  blue,  who 
came  aboard  our  ship,  without  any  shew  of  distrust 
at  all.  And  when  he  saw  one  of  our  number  present 
himself  somewhat  afore  the  rest,  he  drew  forth  a  little 
scroll  of  parchment,  somewhat  yellower  than  our 
parchment,  and  shining  like  the  leaves  of  writing- 
tables,  but  otherwise  soft  and  flexible,  and  delivered 
it  to  our  foremost  man.  In  which  scroll  were  written 
in  ancient  Hebrew,  and  in  ancient  Greek,  and  in 
good  Latin  of  the  school,  and  in  Spanish,  these 
words;  "  Land  ye  not,  none  of  you,  and  provide  to 
"  be  gone  from  this  coast  within  sixteen  days,  except 
<c  you  have  further  time  given  you:  mean  while,  if 
"  you  want  fresh  water,  or  victual,  or  help  for  your 
if  sick,  or  that  your  ship  nccdcth  repair,  write  down 
<e  your  wants,  and  you  shall  have  that  which  belong- 
"  eth  to  mercy."  This  scroll  was  signed  with  a 
stamp  of  cherubims  wings,  not  spread,  but  hanging 
downwards,  and  by  them  a  cross.  This  being  deli- 
vered, the  officer  returned,  and  left  only  a  servant  with 
us  to  receive  our  answer.  Consulting  hereupon 
amongst  ourselves,  we  were  much  perplexed.  The 
denial  of  landing,  and  hasty  warning  us  away,  trou- 
bled us  much  ;  on  the  other  side,  to  find  that  the  peo- 
ple had  languages,  and  were  so  full  of  humanity,  did 
comfort  us  not  a  little.  And  above  all,  the  sign  of 
the  cross  to  that  instrument  was  to  us  a  great  rejoic- 
ing, and  as.  it.  were  a  certain  presage  of  good.  Our 
answer  was  in  the  Spanish  tongue ;  "  That  for  our 
"  ship,  it  was-well ;  for  we  had  rather  met  with  calms 
C(  and  contrary  winds  than  any  tempests.  For  our 

New  Atlantis.  83 

rc  sick  they  were  ninny,  and  in  very  ill  case  ;  so  that 
"  if  they  were  not  permitted  to  land,  they  ran  in  dan- 
"  ger  of  their  lives."  Our  other  wants  we  set  down 
in  particular ;  adding,  "  that  we  had  some  little  store 
cc  of  merchandise,  which  if  it  pleased  them  to  deal 
"  for,  it  might  supply  our  wants  without  being 
"  chargeable  unto  them."  We  offered  some  reward 
in  pistolets  unto  the  servant,  and  a  piece  of  crimson 
velvet  to  be  presented  to  the  officer ;  but  the  servant 
took  them  not,  nor  would  scarce  look  upon  them;  and 
so  left  us,  and  went  back  in  another  little  boat  which 
was  sent  for  him. 

About  three  hours  after  we  had  dispatched  our  an- 
swer, there  came  towards  us  a  person,  as  it  seemed,  of 
place.  He  had  on  him  a  gown  with  wide  sleeves,  of 
a  kind  of  water-camlet,  of  an  excellent  azure  colour, 
far  more  glossy  than  ours ;  his  under  apparel  was 
green,  and  so  was  his  hat,  being  in  the  form  of  a  tur- 
ban, daintily  made,  and  not  so  huge  as  the  Turkish 
turbans  ;  and  the  locks  of  his  hair  came  down  below 
the  brims  of  it.  A  reverend  man  was  he  to  behold. 
He  came  in  a  boat,  gilt  in  some  part  of  it,  with  four 
persons  more  only  in  that  boat ;  and  was  followed  by 
another  boat,  wherein  were  some  twenty.  When  he 
was  come  within  a  flight  shot  of  our  ship,  signs  were 
made  to  us,  that  we  should  send  forth  some  to  meet 
him  upon  the  water,  which  we  presently  did  in  our 
ship-boat,  sending  the  principal  man  amongst  us  save 
one,  and  four  of  our  number  with  him.  When  we 
were  come  within  six  yards  of  their  boat,  they 
called  to  us  to  stay,  and  not  to  approach  farther ; 
which  we  did.  And  thereupon  the  man,  whom  I  be- 
fore described,  stood  up,  and  with  a  loud  voice  in 
Spanish,  asked,  "Are  ye  Christians?"  We  answer- 
ed, "  we  were  ;"  fearing  the  less,  because  of  the  cross 
we  had  seen  in  the  subscription.  At  which  answer 
the  said  person  lift  up  his  right  hand  towards  heaven, 
and  drew  it  softly  to  his  mouth,  which  is  the  gesture 
they  use  when  they  thank  Gqd,  and  then  said  :  "  If 
"  ye  will  swear,  all  of  you,  by  the  merits  of  the 
*'  Saviour,  that  ye  are  no  pirates  5  nor  have  shed 

G  2 

84  New  Atlantis.    1 

<c  blood  lawfully  nor  unlawfully  within  forty  days 
"  past;  you  may  have  licence  to  come  on  land.*'  We 
said,  "  we  were  all  ready  to  take  that  oath."  Where- 
upon one  of  those  that  were  with  him,  being,  as  it 
seemed,  a  notary,  made  an  entry  of  this  act.  Which 
done,  another  of*  the  attendants  of  the  great  person, 
which  was  with  him  in  the  same  boat,  after  his  lord 
had  spoken  a  little  to  him,  said  aloud;  "  My  lord 
"  would  have  you  know,  that  it  is  not  of  pride  or 
<c  greatness,  that  he  cometh  not  aboard  your  ship ; 
"  but  for  that  in  your  answer  you  declare,  that  you 
"  have  many  sick  amongst  you,  he  was  warned  by 
"  the  conservator  of  health  of  the  city,  that  he  should 
"  keep  a  distance.'*  We  bowed  ourselves  towards 
him  and  answered,  "  we  were  his  humble  servants; 
"  and  accounted  for  great  honour  and  singular  huma- 
"  nity  towards  us,  that  which  was  already  done  ;  but 
"  hoped  well,  that  the  nature  of  the  sickness  of  our 
"  men  was  not  infectious."  So  he  returned  ;  and  a 
while  after  came  the  notary  to  us  aboard  our  ship; 
holding  in  his  hand  a  fruit  of  that  country,  like  an 
orange,  but  of  colour  between  orange-tawny  and  scar- 
let, which  cast  a  most  excellent  odour.  He  used  it, 
as  it  seemeth,  for  a  preservative  against  infection. 
He  gave  us  our  oath  ;  tc  By  the  name  of  Jesus  and 
"  his  merits  :"  and  after  told  us,  that  the  next  day  by 
six  of  the  clock  in  the  morning  we  should  be  sent  to, 
and  brought  to  the  Strangers  house,  so  he  called  it, 
where  we  should  be  accommodated  with  things,  both 
for  our  whole,  and  for  our  sick.  So  he  left  us;  and 
when  we  offered  him  some  pistokts,  he  smiling,  said, 
"  he  must  not  be  twice  paid  for  one  labour :"  mean- 
ing, as  I  take  it,  that  he  had  salary  sufficient  of  the 
state  for  his  service.  For,  as  I  afterwards  learned, 
they  call  an  officer  that  taketh  rewards,  Twice-paid. 

The  next  morning  early,  there  came  to  us  the  same 
officer  that  came  to  us  at  first  with  his  cane,  and  told 
us,  "  he  came  to  conduct  us  to  the  Strangers  house  ; 
<f  and  that  he  had  prevented  the  hour,  because  we 
"  might  have  the  whole  day  before  us  for  our  busi- 
"  ness.  For,  said  he,  if  you  will  follow  my  advice, 

New  Atlantis. 

"  there  shall  first  go  with  me  some  few  of  you,  and  see 
"  the  place,  and  how  it  may  be  made  convenient  for 
"  you;  and  then  you  may  send  for  your  sick,  and  the 
"  rest  of  your  number,  which  ye  will  bring  on  land." 
We  thanked  him,  and  said,  that  his  care,  which  he 
took  of  desolate  strangers,  God  would  reward.  And 
so  six  of  us  went  on  land  with  him  :  and  when  we 
were  on  land,  he  went  before  us,  and  turned  to  us, 
and  said  ;  "  he  was  but  our  servant  and  our  guide." 
.He  led  us  through  three  fair  streets  ;  and  all  the  way 
we  went  there  were  gathered  some  people  on  both 
sides,  standing  in  a  row ;  but  in  so  civil  a  fashion,  as 
if  it  had  been,  not  to  wonder  at  us,  but  to  welcome  us  ; 
and  divers  of  them,  as  we  passed  by  them,  put  their 
arms  a  little  abroad;  which  is  their  gesture  when  they 
bid  any  welcome.  The  Strangers  house  is  a  fair  and 
spacious  house,  built  of  brick,  of  somewhat  a  bluer 
colour  than  our  brick  ;  and  with  handsome  windows, 
some  of  glass,  some  of  a  kind  of  cambric  oiled.  He 
brought  us  first  into  a  fair  parlour  above  stairs,  and 
then  asked  us,  "  What  number  of  persons  we  were? 
44  And  how  many  sick  ?"  We  answered,  "  we  were 
"  in  all,  sick  and  whole,  one  and  fifty  persons, 
"  whereof  our  sick  were  seventeen."  He  desired  us 
to  have  patience  a  little,  and  to  sta^  till  he  came  back 
to  us,  which  was  about  an  hour  aher ;  and  then  he 
led  us  to  see  the  chambers,  which  were  provided  for 
us,  being  in  number  nineteen  :  They  having  cast  it, 
as  it  seemeth,  that  four  of  those  chambers,  which  were 
better  than  the  rest,  might  receive  four  of  the  princi- 
pal men  of  our  company,  and  lodge  them  alone  by 
themselves ;  and  the  other  fifteen  chambers,  were  to 
lodge  us  two  and  two  together.  The  chambers  were 
handsome  and  chearful  chambers,  and  furnished  ci- 
villy. Then  he  led  us  to  a  long  gallery,  like  a  dor- 
ture,  where  he  shewed  us  all  along  the  one  side,  for 
the  other  side  was  but  wall  and  window,  seventeen 
cells,  very  neat  ones,  having  partitions  of  cedar  wood. 
Which  gallery  and  cells,  being  in  all  forty,  many 
more  than  we  needed,  were  instituted  as  an  infirmary 
for  sick  persons.  And  he  told  us  withal,  that  as  any 

86  New  Atlantis. 

of  our  sick  waxed  well,  he  might  be  removed  from 
his  cell  to  a  chamber  :  for  which  purpose  there  were 
set  forth  ten  spare  chambers,  besides  the  number  we 
spake  of  before.  This  done,  he  brought  us  back  to 
the  parlour,  and  lifting  up  his  cane  a  little,  as  they  do 
when  they  give  any  charge  or  command,  said  to  us, 
"  Ye  are  to  know  that  the  custom  of  the  land  requir- 
<c  eth,  that  after  this  day  and  to-morrow,  which  we 
"  give  you  for  removing  of  your  people  from  your 
"  ship,  you  are  to  keep  within  doors  for  three  days. 
<c  But  let  it  not  trouble  you,  nor  do  not  think  your-* 
"  selves  restrained,  but  rather  left  to  your  rest  and 
"  ease.  You  shall  want  nothing,  and  there  are  six 
"  of  our  people  appointed  to  attend  you,  for  any  bu- 
"  siness  you  may  have  abroad.'*  We  gave  him  thanks, 
with  all  affection  and  respect,  and  said,  'f*  God  surely 
"  is  manifested  in  this  land."  We  offered  him 
also  twenty  pistolets;  but  he  smiled,  and  only  said; 
«  What?  twice  paid!''  And  so  he  left  us.  Soon 
after  our  dinner  was  served  in;  which  was  right  good 
viands,  both  for  bread  and  meat :  better  than  any  col^ 
legiate  diet  that  I  have  known  in  Europe.  We  had 
also  drink  of  three  sorts,  all  wholesome  and  good  ; 
wine  of  the  grape ;  a  drink  of  grain,  such  as  is  with  us 
our  ale,  but  more  clear;  and  a  kind  of  cider  made  of 
a  fruit  of  that  country ;  a  wonderful  pleasing  and  re- 
freshing drink.  Besides,  there  were  brought  in  to  us 
great  store  of  those  scarlet  oranges  for  our  sick ;  which, 
they  siiid,  were  an  assured  remedy  for  sickness  taken 
at  sea.  There  was  given  us  also,  a  box  of  small  grey 
or  whitish  pills,  which  they  wished  our  sick  should 
take,  one  of  the  pills  every  night  before  sleep  ;  which, 
they  said,  would  hasten  their  recovery.  The  next  day, 
after  that  our  trouble  of  carriage,  and  removing  of 
our  men,  and  goods  out  of  our  ship,  was  somewhat 
settled  and  quiet,  I  thought  good  to  call  our  company 
together;  and  when  they  were  assembled,  said  unto 
them  ;  "  My  dear  friends,  let  us  know  ourselves,  and 
*'  how  it  standcth  with  us.  We  are  men  cast  on 
ic  land,  as  Jonas  was,  out  of  the  whale's  belly,  ivhen 
"  we  were,  as  buried  in  the  deep :  and  now  we  are 

New  Atlantis.  $7 

"  on  land,  we  are  but  between  death  and  life ,  fa* 
<e  we  are  beyond  both  the  old  world  and  the  new  ; 
cc  and  whether  ever  we  shall  see  Europe,  God  only 
"  knoweth.  It  is  a  kind  of  miracle  hath  brought  us 
"  hither:  and  It  must  be  little  less  that  shall  bring 
"  us  hence.  Therefore  in  regard  of  our  deliverance 
"  past,  and  our  danger  present  and  to  come,  let  us 
<c  look  up  to  God,  and  every  man  reform  his  own 
"  ways.  Besides  we  are  come  here  among  a  Christian 
tc  people,  full  of  piety  and  humanity:  let  us  not  bring 
"  that  confusion  of  face  upon  ourselves,  as  to  shew 
<c  our  vices  or  unworthiness  before  them.  Yet  there 
"  is  more  :  for  they  have  by  commandment,  though 
"  in  form  of  courtesy,  cloistered  us  within  these 
"  walls  for  three  days :  who  knoweth  whether  it  be 
"  not  to  take  some  taste  of  our  manners  and  condi- 
"  tions  ?  And  if  they  find  them  bad,  to  banish  us 
"  straightways;  if  good,  to  give  us  farther  time. 
"  For  these  men,  that  they  have  given  us  for  attend- 
"  ance,  may  withal  have  an  eye  upon  us.  Therefore 
"  for  God's  love,  and  as  we  love  the  weale  of  our 
"  souls  and  bodies,  let  us  so  behave  ourselves  as  we 
•"  may  be  at  peace  with  God,  and  may  find  grace  in 
"  the  eyes  of  this  people."  Our  company  with  one 
voice  thanked  me  for  my  good  admonition,  and  pro- 
mised me  to  live  soberly  and  civilly,  and  without  giv- 
ing any  the  least  occasion  of  oifence.  So  we  spent  our 
three  days  joyfully,  and  without  care,  in  expectation 
what  would  be  done  with  us  when  they  were  ex- 
pired. During  which  time,  we  had  every  hour  joy  of 
the  amendment  of  our  sick  ;  who  thought  themselves 
cast  into  some  divine  pool  of  healing ;  they  mended 
so  kindly  and  so  fast. 

The  morrow  after  our  three  days  were  past,  there 
came  to  us  a  new  man,  that  we  had  not  seen  before, 
clothed  in  blue  as  the  former  was,  save  that  his  turban 
was  white,  with  a  small  red  cross  on  the  top.  He 
had  also  a  tippet  of  fine  linen.  At  his  coming  in  he 
did  bend  to  us  a  little,  and  put  his  arms  abroad.  We 
of  our  parts  saluted  him  in  a  very  lowly  and  submis- 
sive manner ;  as. looking  that  from  him  we  should  re- 

88  AW  Atlantis. 

ceive  sentence  of  life  or  death.  He  desired  to  speak 
with  some  few  of  us  :  whereupon  six  of  us  only  stayed, 
and  the  rest  avoided  the  room.  He  said,  "  I  am  by 
"  office  governor  of  this  House  of  Strangers,  and  by 
"  vocation  I  am  a  Christian  priest ;  and  therefore  am 
"  come  to  you,  to  offer  you  my  service,  both  as  stran- 
"  gers,  and  chiefly  as  Christians.  Some  things  I  may 
"  tell  you,  which  I  think  you  will  not  be  unwilling 
"  to  hear.  The  state  hath  given  you  licence  to  stay 
"  on  land  for  the  space  of  six  weeks :  and  let  it  not 
"  trouble  you  if  your  occasions  ask  farther  time,  for  the 
*'  law  in  this  point  is  not  precise  ;  and  I  do  not  doubt 
"  but  myself  shall  be  able  to  obtain  for  you  such  far- 
"  thertimeasmay  be  convenient.  Ye  shall  also  under- 
"  stand,  that  the  Strangers  house  is  at  this  time  rich, 
"  and  much  aforehand;  for  it  hath  laid  up  revenue 
"  these  thirty-seven  years;  for  so  long  it  is  sin«ce  any 
"  stranger  arrived  in  this  part :  and  therefore  take  ye 
"  no  care;  the  state  will  defray  you  all  the  time  you 
"  stay ;  neither  shall  you  stay  one  day  the  less  for 
"  that.  As  for  any  merchandise  you  have  brought, 
"  ye  shall  be  well  used,  and  have  your  return 
"  either  in  merchandise,  or  in  gold  and  silver : 
"  for  to  us  it  is  all  one.  And  if  you  have  any  other 
"  request  to  make,  hide  it  not.  For  ye  shall  find,  we 
"  will  not  make  your  countenance  to  fall  by  the  an- 
"  swer  ye  shall  receive.  Only  this  I  must  tell  you, 
«  that  none  of  you  must  go  above  a  karan,  that  is  with 
"  them  a  mile  and  an  half,  from  the  walls  of  the 
"  city  without  special  leave."  We  answered,  after 
we  had  looked  awhile  one  upon  another,  admiring 
this  gracious  and  parent-like  usage  ;  "  that  we  could 
*£  not  tell  what  to  say :  for  we  wanted  words  to  ex- 
"  press  our  thanks;  and  his  noble  free  offers  left  us 
"  nothing  to  ask.  Jt  seemed  to  us,  that  we  had  be- 
"  fore  us  a  picture  of  our  salvation  in  heaven:  for 
"  we  that  were  awhile  since  in  the  jaws  of  death, 
"  were  now  brought  into  a  place  where  we  found 
"  nothing  but  consolations.  For  the  commandment 
"  laid  upon  us,  we  would  not  fail  to  obey  it,  though 
"  it  was  impossible  but  our  hearts  should  be  inflamed 

New  Atlantis.  89 

"  to  tread  farther  upon  this  happy  and  holy  ground, 
"  We  added  ;  that  our  tongues  should  first  cleave  to 
"  the  roofs  of  our  mouths,  ere  we  should  forget  either 
"  his  reverend  person,  or  this  whole  nation  in  our 
"  prayers.'*  We  also  most  humbly  besought  him  to 
accept  of  us  as  his  true  servants,  by  as  just  a  right  as 
ever  men  on  earth  were  bounden,  laying  and  present- 
ing both  our  persons  and  all  we  had  at  his  feet.  He 
said ;  "  he  was  a  priest,  and  looked  for  a  priest's  re- 
"  ward  ;  which  was  our  brotherly  love,  and  the  good 
"  of  our  souls  and  bodies."  So  he  went  from  us,  not 
without  tears  of  tenderness  in  his  eyes;  and  left  us  also 
confused  with  joy  and  kindness,  saying  amongst  our- 
selves, "  that  we  were  come  into  a  land  of  angels, 
"  which  did  appear  to  us  daily,  and  prevent  us  with 
((  comforts  which  we  thought  not  of,  much  less  ex- 
«  pected." 

The  next  day,  about  ten  of  the  clock  the  governor 

came  to  us  again,  and  after  salutations  said  familiarly, 

that  he  was  come  to  visit  us;  and  called  for  a  chair, 

and  sat  him  down  :  and  we  being  some  ten  of  us,  the 

rest  were  of  the  meaner  sort,  or  else  gone  abroad,  sat 

down  with  him.     And  when  we  were  set,  he  began 

thus:  "  We  of  this  island  of  Bensalem,  for  so  they 

(S  call  it  in  their  language,  have  this;  that  by  means 

"  of  our  solitary  situation,  and  of  the  laws  of  secrecy 

"  which  we  have  for  our  travellers,  and  our  rare  ad- 

"  mission  of  strangers ;  we  know   well  most  part  of 

"  the  habitable  world,  and  are  ourselves  unknown. 

"  Therefore  because  he  that  knoweth  least  is  fittest 

ce  to  ask  questions,  it  is  more  reason  for  the  entertain- 

"  ment  of  the  time,  that  ye  ask  me  questions,  thai^ 

"  that    I  ask   you."     We  answered  ;     "  That   we 

"  humbly  thanked  him   that  he  would  give  us  leave 

"  so  to  do  :  and  that  we  conceived  by  the  taste  we 

<c  had  already,  that  there  was  no   worldly  thing  on 

"  earth  more  worthy  to  be  known  than  the  state  of 

"  that  happy  land.     But   above   all,  we   said,  since 

"  that  we  were  met  from  the    several  ends  of  the 

"  world,  and  hoped  assuredly  that  we  should  meet  one 

"  day  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  for  that  we  were 

New  Atlantis. 

"  both  parts  Christians,  we  desired  to  know,  in  re- 
"  spect  that  land  was  so  remote,  and  so  divided  by 
*'  vast  and  unknown  seas,  from  the  land  where  our 
cc  Saviour  walked  on  earth,  who  was  the  apostle  of 
"  that  nation,  and  how  it  was  converted  to  the 
"  faith  ?"  It  appeared  in  his  face  that  he  took  great 
contentment  in  this  our  question :  he  said,  "  Ye 
"  knit  my  heart  to  you,  by  asking  this  question  in 
<e  the  first  place ;  for  it  sheweth  that  you.first  seek  the 
"  kingdom  of  heaven  >  and  I  shall  gladly  and  briefly 
"  satisfy  your  demand. 

"  About  twenty  years  after  the  ascension  of  our 
te  Saviour,  it  came  to  pass,  that  there  was  seen  by 
<c  the  people  of  Renfusa,  a  city  upon  the  eastern 
"  coast  of  our  island,  within  night,  the  night  was 
f<  cloudy  and  calm,  as  it  might  be  some  mile  into  the 
"  sea,  a  great  pillar  of  light ;  not  sharp,  but -in  form 
"  of  a  column  or  cylinder  rising  from  the  sea,  a  great 
"Way  up  towards  heaven;  and  on  the  top  of  it  was 
"  seen  a  large  cross  of  light,  more  bright  and  resplen~ 
"  dent  than  the  body  of  the  pillar.  Upon  which  so 
"  strange  a  spectacle,  the  people  of  the  city  gathered 
"  apace  together  upon  the  sands  to  wonder ;  and  so 
"  after  put  themselves  into  a  number  of  small  boats, 
"  to  go  nearer  to  this  marvellous  sight.  But  when 
"  the  boats  were  come  within  about  sixty  yards  of 
"  the  pillar,  they  found  themselves  all  bound,  and 
"  could  go  no  farther,  yet  so  as  they  might  move  to 
"  go  about,  but  might  not  approach  nearer  :  so  as  the 
<f  boats  stood  all  as  in  a  theatre,  beholding  this  light 
"  as  an  heavenly  sign.  It  so  fell  out,  that  there  was 
"  in  one  of  the  boats  one  of  the  wise  men  of  the  so- 
"  ciety  ot  Solomon's  house,  which  house  or  college, 

my  good  brethren,  is  the  very  eye  of  this  kingdom  ; 
"  who  having  awhile  attentively  and  devoutly  viewed 

and  contemplated  this  pillar  and  cross,  fell  down 

upon  his  face ;  and  then  raised  himself  upon  his 

knees,  and   lifting  up  his  hands  to   heaven,  made 

his  prayers  in  this  manner: 

"  Lord  God  ofJtearen  and-carih ;  thou  liast  vouchsafed 
f  of  tty  grate,  to  those  of  our  order,  to  know  thy  works 

New  Atlantis.  91 

"  of  creation,  and  the  secrets  of  them;  and  to  discern, 
"  as  far-  as  appertaineth  to  the  generations  of  men,  be- 
"  tween  divine  miracles,  works  of  nature,  works  of  art, 
"  and  impostures  and  illusions  of  all  sorts.  I  do  here 
"  acknowledge  and  testify  before  this  people,  that  the 
"  thing  which  we  now  see  before  our  eyes,  is  thy  finger, 
"  and  a  true  miracle  ;  and' forasmuch  as  we  learn  in 
"  our  books,  that  tlwu  never  workest  miracles,  but  to  a 
"  divine  and  excellent  end,  for  the  laivs  of  nature  are 
"  thine  own  latvs,  and  thou  exceedest  them  not  but  upon 
"  great  cause,  ive  most  humbly  beseech  thee  to  prosper 
"  this  great  sign,  and  to  give  us  the  interpretation  and 
"  use  of  it  in  mercy ;  which  thou  dost  in  some  part 
"  secretly  promise  by  sending  it  unto  us. 

"  When  he  had  made  his  prayer,  he  presently 
"  found  the  boat  he  was  in  moveable  and  unbound  ; 
"  whereas  all  the  rest  remained  still  fast ;  and  taking 
"  that  for  an  assurance  of  leave  to  approach,  he  caused 
ee  the  boat  to  be  softly  and  with  silence  rowed  to- 
"  wards  the  pillar.  But  ere  he  came  near  it,  the 
"  pillar  and  cross  of  light  brake  up,  and  cast  itself 
fc  abroad,  as  it  were  into  a  firmament  of  many  stars  ; 
fc  which  also  vanished  soon  after,  apd  there  was  no- 
*'  thing  left  to  be  seen  but  a  small  ark  or  chest  of 
f(  cedar,  dry,  and  not  wet  at  all  with  water,  though  it 
(e  swam.  And  in  the  fore-end  of  it  which  was  to- 
"  wards  him,  grew  a  small  green  branch  of  palm ; 
"  and  when  the  wise  man  had  taken  it  with  all  re- 
"  verence  into  his  boat,  it  opened  of  itself,  and  there 
*c  were  found  in  it  a  book  and  a  letter ;  both  written 
"  in  fine  parchment,  and  wrapped  in  sindons  of  linen. 
"  The  book  contained  all  the  canonical  books  of  the 
"  Old  and  New  Testament,  according  as  you  have 
"  them,  for  we  know  well  what  the  churches  with 
"  you  receive,  and  the  Apocalypse  itself:  and  some 
<c  other  books  of  the  New  Testament,  which  were 
"  not  at  that  time  written,  were  nevertheless  in  the 
•"  book :  and  for  the  letter  it  was  in  these  words  : 

"  /  Bartholomew,  a  servant  of  the  Highest,  and 
f<  Apostle  of  Jesus  Christ,  ivas  warned  by  an  angel  that 
ft  appeared  to  me  in  a  vision  of  glory,  that  I  should 

New  Atlantis. 

"  commit  this  ark  to  the  floods  of  the  sea.  'Therefore  I 
"  do  testify  and  declare,  unto  that  people  zchere  God 
*c  shall  ordain  this  ark  to  come  to  land,  that  in  the  same 
<c  day  is  come  unto  them  salvation,  and  peace,  and  good- 
"  will,  from  the  Father,  and  from  the  Lord  Jesus. 

"  There  was  also  in  both  these  writings,  as  well  the 
"  book  as  the  letter,  wrought  a  great  miracle,  con- 
"  form  to  that  of  the  Apostles  in  the  original  gift  of 
*f  tongues.  For  there  being  at  that  time  in  this  land, 
<c  Hebrews,  Persians,  and  Indians,  besides  the  na- 
"  tives,  every  one  read  the  book  and  letter,  as  if  they 
"  had  been  written  in  his  own  language.  And  thus 
%<  was  this  land  saved  from  infidelity,  as  the  remain 
<f  of  the  old  world  was  from  water,  by  an  ark,  through 
*c  the  apostolical  and  miraculous  evangelism  of  St. 
"  Bartholomew."  And  here  he  paused,  and  a  mes- 
senger came,  and  called  him  from  us.  So  this  was  all 
that  passed  in  that  conference. 

The  next  day  the  same  governor  came  again  to  us 
immediately  after  dinner,  and  excused  himself, saying; 
"  that  the  day  before  he  was  called  from  us,  some- 
"  what  abruptly,  but  now  he  would  make  us  amends, 
"  and  spend  time  with  us,  if  we  held  his  company  and 
"  conference  agreeable  :"  we  answered,  "  that  we 
"  held  it  so  agreeable  and  pleasing  to  us,  as  we  forgot 
"  both  dangers  past  and  fears  to  come,  for  the  time 
"  we  heard  him  speak  ;  and  that  we  thought  an  hour 
**' spent  with  him,  was  worth  years  of  our  former 
"  life.*'  He  bowed  himself  a  little  to  us,  and  after 
we  were  set  again,  he  said  ;  "  Well,  the  questions  are 
on  your  part.'*  One  of  our  number  said,  after  a  little 
pause  ;  "  that  there  was  a  matter  we  were  no  less  de- 
"  sirous  to  know,  than  fearful  to  ask,  lest  we  might 
"  presume  too  far.  (But  encouraged  by  his  rare  hu- 
"  manity  towards  us,  that  could  scarce  think  our- 
"  selves  strangers,  being  his  vowed  and  professed 
"  servants,  we  would  take  the  hardiness  to  propound 
"  it :  humbly  beseeching  him,  if  he  thought  it  not 
"  fit  to  be  answered,  that  he  would  pardon  it,  though 
"  he  rejected  it."  We  said  ;  "  we  well  observed  those 
"  his  words,  which  he  formerly  spake,  that  this  happy 

New  Atlantis.       .  93 

"  island  where  we  now  stood,  was  known  to  few, 
"  and  yet  knew  most  of  the  nations  of  the  world  ; 
"  which  we  found  to  be  true,  considering  they  had 
"  the  languages  of  Europe,  and  knew  much  of  our 
"  state  and  business;  and  yet  we  in  Europe,  not- 
"  withstanding  all  the  remote  discoveries  and  navi- 
"  gations  of  this  last  age,  never  heard  any  the  least 
"  inkling  or  glimpse  of  this  island.  This  we  found 
"  wonderful  strange  :  for  that  all  nations  have  inter- 
"  knowledge  one  of  another,  either  by  voyage  into 
cc  foreign  parts,  or  by  strangers  that  come  to  them : 
cc  and  though  the  traveller  into  a  foreign  country 
*f  doth  commonly  know  more  by  the  eye,  than  he 
"  that  stayeth  at  home  can  by  relation  of  the  tra- 
"  veller ;  yet  both  ways  suffice  to  make  a  mutual  know- 
<f  ledge,  in  some  degree,  on  both  parts.  But  for  this 
"  island,  we  never  heard  tell  of  any  ship  of  theirs, 
"  that  had  been  seen  to  arrive  upon  any  shore  of 
"  Europe;  no,  nor  of  either  the  East  or  West  Indies, 
"  nor  yet  of  any  ship  of  any  other  part  of  the  world, 
"  that  had  made  return  from  them.  And  yet  the 
"  marvel  rested  not  in  this.  For  the  situation  of  it, 
"  as  his  lordship  said,  in  the  secret  conclave  of  such 
"  a  vast  sea  might  cause  it.  But  then,  that  they 
"  should  have  knowledge  of  the  languages,  books, 
"  affairs  of  those  that  lie  such  a  distance  from  them, 
"  it  was  a  thing  we  could  not  tell  what  to  make  of; 
"  for  that  it  seemed  to  us  a  condition  and  propriety 
"  of  divine  powers  and  beings,  to  be  hidden  and  un- 
"  seen  to  others,  and  yet  to  have  others  open,  and  as 
"  in  a  light  to  them."  At  this  speech  the  governor 
gave  a  gracious  smile,  and  said  ;  "  that  we  did  well 
"  to  ask  pardon  for  this  question  we  now  asked  ;  for 
"  that  it  imported,  as  if  we  thought  this  land  a  land 
"  of  magicians,  that  sent  forth  spirits  of  the  air  into 
•"  all  parts,  to  bring  them  news  and  intelligence  of 
"  other  countries."  It  was  answered  by  us  all,  in  all 
possible  humbleness,  but  yet  with  a  countenance 
taking  knowledge  that  we  knew  that  he  spake  it  but 
merrily,  "  That  we  were  apt  enough  to  think  there 
*'  was  something  supernatural  in  this  island,  but  yet 

New  Atlantis. 

"  rather  as  angelical  than  magical.  But  to  let  his 
"  lordship  know  truly,  what  it  was  that  made  us 
"  tender  and  doubtful  to  ask  this  question,  it  was  not 
"  any  such  conceit,  but  because  we  remembered,  he 
"  had  given  a  touch  in  his  former  speech,  that  this 
"  land  had  laws  of  secresy  touching  strangers."  To 
this  he  said  ;  "  You  remember  it  aright ;  and  there- 
"  fore  in  that  I  shall  say  to  you,  I  must  reserve  some 
<c  particulars,  which  it  is  not  lawful  for  me  to  reveal ; 
<c  but  there  will  be  enough  left  to  give  you  satis- 
"  faction. 

"  You  shall  understand,  that  which  perhaps  you  will 
"  scarce  think  credible,  that  about  three  thousand 
<c  years  ago,  or  somewhat  more,  the  navigation  of 
4C  the  world,  especially  for  remote  voyagers,  was 
"  greater  than  at  this  day.  Do  not  think  with  your- 
"  selves,  that  I  know  not  how  much  it  is  encreased 
"  with  you  within  these  six-score  years :  I  know  it 
<c  well ;  and  yet  I  say  greater  then  than  now  :  whether 
(f  it  was,  that  the  example  of  the  ark,  that  saved  the 
"  remnant  of  men  from  the  universal  deluge,  gave 
"  men  confidence  to  adventure  upon  the  waters,  or 
<c  what  it  was,  but  such  is  the  truth.  The  Phoenicians, 
"  and  especially  the  Tyrians,had  great  fleets.  So  had 
<c  the  Carthaginians  their  colony,  which  is  yet  farther 
"  west.  Toward  the  east,  the  shipping  of  Egypt, 
"  and  of  Palestine,  was  likewise  great.  China  also, 
<c  and  the  great  Atlantis,  that  you  call  America, 
"  which  have  now  but  junks  and  canoes,  abounded 
"  then  in  tall  ships.  This  island,  as  appeareth  by 
"  faithful  registers  of  those  times,  had  then  fifteen 
"  hundred  strong  ships,  of  great  content.  Of  all  this, 
"  there  is  with  you  sparing  memory,  or  none ;  but 
"  we  have  large  knowledge  thereof. 

"  At  that  time,  this  land  was  known  and  frequented 
*c  by  the  ships  and  vessels  of  all  the  nations  before 
"  named.  And,  as  it  cometh  to  pass,  they  had 
"  many  times  men  of  other  countries,  that  were  no 
"  sailors,  that  came  with  them  ;  as  Persians,  Chal- 
"  deans,  Arabians,  so  as  almost  all  nations  of  might 
"  and  fame  resorted  hither ;  of  whom  we  have  some 

New  Atlantis.  95 

"  stirps  and  little  tribes  with  us  et  this  day.  And  for 
"  our  own  ships,  they  went  sundry  voyages,  as  well 
"  to  your  Straits,  which  you  call  the  pillars  of  Hercu- 
"  les,  as  to  other  parts  in  the  Atlantic  and  Mediter- 
"  ranean  Seas;  as  to  Peguin,  which  is  the  same  with 
"  Cambaline,  and  Quinzy,  upon  the  Oriental  Seas, 
<c  as  far  as  to  the  borders  of  the  east  Tartary. 

<c  At  the  same  time,  and  an  age  after,  or  more, 
**  the  inhabitants  of  the  great  Atlantis  did  flourish. 
"  For  though  the  narration  and  description  which  is 
"  made  by  a  great  man  with  you,  that  the  descend- 
"  ants  of  Neptune  planted  there ;  and  of  the  magni- 
"  ficent  temple,  palace,  city,  and  hill ;  and  the  mani- 
fc  fold  streams  of  goodly  navigable  rivers,  which,  as 
"  so  many  chains,  environed  the  same  site  and  tem- 
"  pie  ;  and  the  several  degrees  of  ascent,  whereby 
"  men  did  climb  up  to  the  same,  as  if  it  had  been  a 
"  scali  call ;  be  all  poetical  and  fabulous  :  yet  so 
"  much  is  true,  that  the  said  country  of  Atlantis,  as 
"  well  as  that  of  Peru,  then  called  Coya,  as  that  of 
<(  Mexico,  then  named  Tyrambel,  were  mighty  and 
(f  proud  kingdoms,  in  arms,  shipping,  and  riches :  so 
"  mighty,  as  at  one  time,  or  at  least  within  the 
"  space  of  ten  years,  they  both  made  two  great  expe- 
<c  ditions,  they  of  Tyrambel,  through  the  Atlantic  to 
"  the  Mediterranean  Sea ;  and  they  of  Coya,  through 
"  the  South  Sea  upon  this  our  island  :  and  for  the  for- 
"  mer  of  these,  which  was  into  Europe,  the  same 
"  author  amongst  you,  as  it  seemeth,  had  some  rela- 
"  tion  from  the  Egyptian  priest  whom  he  citeth, 
"  For  assuredly,  such  a  thing  there  was,  but  whether 
"  it  were  the  ancient  Athenians  that  had  the  glory  of 
"  the  repulse  and  resistance  of  those  forces,  I  can  say 
f<  nothing  :  but  certain  it  is,  there  never  came  back 
Cf  either  ship,  or  man,  from  that  voyage.  Neither  had  the 
"  other  voyage  of  those  of  Coya  upon  us  had  better  for- 
<f  tune,  if  they  had  not  met  with  enemies  of  greater 
"  clemency.  For  the  king  of  this  island,  by  name 
"  Altabin,  a  wise  man,  and  a  great  warrior;  know- 
"  ing  well  both  his  own  strength,  and  that  of  his  ene- 
"  mics ;  handled  the  matter  so,  as  he  cut  off  their 

New  Atlantis. 

cc  land-forces  from  rheir  ships,  and  entoiled  both  their 

"  navy  and  their  camp,  with  a  greater  power  than 

"  theirs,  both  by  sea  and  land ;  and  compelled  them 

"  to  render  themselves  without  striking  stroke :  and 

<fc  after  they  were  at  his  mercy,  contenting  himself 

"  only  with  their  oath,  that  they  should  no  more  bear 

<c  arms  against  him,  dismissed  them  all  in  safety.    But 

"  the  divine  revenge   overtook  not  long  after  those 

"  proud  enterprises.    For  within  less  than  the  space  of 

"  one  hundred  years,  the  great  Atlantis  was  utterly 

"  lost  and  destroyed :  not  by  a  great  earthquake,  as 

"  your  man  saith,  for  that  whole  tract  is  little  subject 

"  to  earthquakes,  but  by  a  particular  deluge  or  inun- 

<c  dation  :  those  countries  having,    at  this  day,    far 

"  greater  rivers,  and   far   higher  mountains,  to  pour 

"  down  waters,  than  any  part  of  the  old  world.    But 

"  it  is  true,  that  t:he  same  inundation  was  not  deep ; 

"  not  past  forty  foot,  in  most  places,  from  the  ground: 

"  so  that  although  it  destroyed  man  and  beast  gene- 

<e  rally,  yet  some  few  wild  inhabitants  of  the  wood 

"  escaped.     Birds  also  were  saved  by  flying  to  the 

"  high  trees  and  woods.     For  as  for  men,  although 

<c  they  had  buildings  in  many  places  higher  than  the 

"  depth  of  the  water  ;  yet  that  inundation,  though  it 

"  were  shallow,  had  a  long  continuance;  whereby 

"  they  of  the  vale,  that  were  not  drowned,  perished 

<c  for  want  of  food,  and  other  things  necessary.     So 

"  as  marvel  you  not  at  the  thin  population  of  Ameri- 

"  ca,  nor  at  the  rudeness  and  ignorance  of  the  people; 

<c  for  you  must  account  your  inhabitants  of  America 

"  as  a  young  people;  younger  a  thousand   years,  at 

"  the  least,  than  the  rest  of  the  world ;  for  that  there 

<c  was  so  much  time  between  the  universal  flood  and 

"  their  particular  inundation.     For  the  poor  remnant 

"  of  human  seed,  which  remained  in  their  mountains, 

"  peopled  the  country  again  slowly,  by  little  and  lit- 

"  tie ;  and  being  simple  and  savage  people,  not  like 

"  Noah  and  his  sons,  which  was  the  chief  family  of 

"  the  earth,  they  were  not  able  to  leave  letters,  arts, 

"  and  civility  to  their  posterity  ;  and  having  likewise 

"  in  their  mountainous  habitations  been  used,  in  re- 

New  Atlantis.  97 

"  sped  of  the  extreme  cold  of  those  regions,  to  clothe 
"  themselves  with  the  skins  of  tigers,  bears,  and  great 
"  hairy  goats,  that  they  have  in  those  parts ;  when 
"  after  they  came  down  into  the  valley,  and  found  the 
*c  intolerable  heats  which  are  there,  and  knew  no 
"  means  of  lighter  apparel,  they  were  forced  to  begin 
"  the  custom  of  going  naked,  which  continueth  at 
"  this  day.  Only  they  take  great  pride  and  delight 
"  in  the  feathers  of  birds,  and  this  also  they  took 
"  from  those  their  ancestors  of  the  mountains,who  were 
"  invited  unto  it  by  the  infinite  flights  of  birds>  that 
"  came  up  to  the  high  grounds  while  the  waters  stood 
"  below.  So  you  see,  by  this  main  accident  of  time, 
"  we  lost  our  traffic  with  the  Americans,  with  whom, 
"  of  all  others,  in  regard  they  lay  nearest  to  us,  we 
"  had  most  commerce.  As  for  the  other  parts  of  the 
"  world,  it  is  most  manifest,  that  in  the  ages  following, 
"  whether  it  were  in  respect  of  wars,  or  by  a  natural 
"  revolution  of  time,  navigation  did  every  where 
"  greatly  decay;  and  especially  far  voyages,  the  ra- 
*c  ther  by  the  use  of  galleys,  and  such  vessels  as  could 
cc  hardly  brook  the  ocean,  were  altogether  left  and 
"  omitted.  So  then,  that  part  of  intercourse  which 
"  could  be  from  other  nations  to  sail  to  us,  you  see 
"  how  it  hath  long  since  ceased ;  except  it  were  by 
*'  some  rare  accident,  as  this  of  yours.  But  now  of 
"  the  cessation  of  that  other  part  of  intercourse,  which 
"  might  be  by  our  sailing  to  other  nations,  I  must  yield 
"  you  some  other  cause.  For  I  cannot  say,  if  I 
"  shall  say  truly,  but  our  shipping,  for  number, 
"  strength,  mariners,  pilots,  and  all  things  that  ap- 
"  pertain  to  navigation,  is  as  great  as  ever :  and  there- 
"  fore  why  we  should  sit  at  home,  I  shall  now  give 
"  you  aivaccount  by  itself;  and  it  will  draw  nearer 
"  to  give  you  satisfaction  to  your  principal  question. 
"  There  reigned  in  this  island,  about  nineteen  hun-» 
"  dred  years  ago,  a  king,  whose  memory  of  all  others 
"  we  most  adore  ;  not  superstitiously,  but  as  a  divine 
"  instrument,  though  a  mortal  man ;  his  name  was 
"  Solomona  :  and  we  esteem  him  as  the  lawgiver  qf 
"  our  nation.  This  king  had  a  large  heart,  inscrut- 

VOL.  II,  H 

Arer<;  Atlantis. 

"  able  for  good,  and  was  wholly  bent  to  make  his 
"  kingdom  and  people  happy.  He  therefore  taking 
"  into  consideration,  how  sufficient  and  substantive 
"  this  land  was  to  maintain  itself  without  any  aid  at 
"  all  of  the  foreigner,  being  five  thousand  six  hun- 
"  dred  miles  in  circuit,  and  of  rare  fertility  of  soil,  in 
"  the  greatest  part  thereof;  and  finding  also  the  ship- 
"  ping  of  this  country  might  be  plentifully  set  on 
"  work,  both  by  fishing  and  by  transportations  from 
"  port  to  port,  and  likewise  by  sailing  unto  some  small 
"  islands  that  are  not  far  from  us,  and  are  under  the 
"  crown  and  laws  of  this  state ;  and  recalling  unto 
"  his  memory  the  happy  and  flourishing  estate  where- 
"  in  this  land  then  was  ;.  so  as  it  might  be  a  thousand 
"  ways  altered  to  the  worse,  but  scarce  any  one  way 
"  to  the  better,  thought  nothing  wanted  to  his  noble 
"  and  heroical  intentions,  but  only  as  far  as  human 
"  foresight  might  reach,  to  give  perpetuity  to  that, 
"  which  was  in  his  time  so  happily  established. 
"  Therefore  amongst  his  other  fundamental  laws  of  this 
<f  kingdom,  he  did  ordain  the  interdicts  and  prohibi- 
"  tions,  which  we  have  touching  entrance  of  stran- 
"  gers;  which  at  that  time,  though  it  was  after  the 
4C  calamity  of  America,  was  frequent;  doubting  no- 
i(  velties,  and  commixture  of  manners.  It  is  true,  the' 
"  like  law  against  the  admission  of  strangers  without 
"  licence,  is  an  ancient  law  in  the  kingdom  of  China, 
"  and  yet  continued  in  use :  but  there  it  is  a  poor 
*'  thing  ;  and  hath  made  them  a  curious,  ignorant, 
"  fearful,  foolish  nation.  But  our  lawgiver  made  his 
6(  law  of  another  temper.  For  first  he  hath  preserved 
<c  all  points  of  humanity,  in  taking  order,  and  making 
"  provision  for  the  relief  of  strangers  distressed, 
"  whereof  you  have  tasted."  At  which  speech,  as 
reason  was,  we  all  rose  up  and  bowed  ourselves. 
He  went  on.  .'^  That  the  king  also,  still  desiring 
"  to  join  humanity  and  policy  together  ;  and  think- 
"  ing  it  against  humanity  to  detain  strangers  here 
"  against  their  wills;  and  against  policy  that  they 
"  should  return,  and  discover  their  knowledge  of 
"-  this  estate,  he  took  this  course  :  he  did,  .ordain,  that 

New  Atlantis. 

'*  of  the  strangers  that  should  be  permitted  to  land,  as 
"  many,  at  all  times,  might  depart  as  would';  but  as 
"  many  as  would  stay,  should  have  very  good  condi- 
"•  tions,  and  means  to  live  from  the  state.  Wherein 
"•he  saw  so  far,  that  now  in  so  many  ages  since  the 
"  prohibition,  we  have  memory,  not  of  one  ship  that 
"  ever  returned,  and  but  of  thirteen  persons  only,  at 
"  several  times,  that  chose  to  return  in  our  bottoms. 
"  What  those  few  that  returned  may  have  reported 
(t  abroad  I  know  not :  but  you  must  think,  whatso- 
"  ever  they  have  said,  could  be  taken  where  they 
"  came  but  for  a  dream.  Now  for  our  travelling  from 
"  hence  into  parts  abroad,  our  lawgiver  thought  fit 
"  altogether  to  restrain  it.  So  is  it  not  in  China.  For 
*'  the  Chinese  sail  where  they  will  or  can ;  which 
"  sheweth,  that  their  law  of  keeping  out  strangers,  is  a 
"  law  of  pusillanimity  and  fear.  But  this  restraint  of 
"  ours  hath  one  only  exception,  which  is  admirable  ; 
"  preserving  the  good  which  cometh,  by  communi- 
ft  eating  with  strangers,  and  avoiding  the  hurt ;  and 
"  I  will  now  open  it  to  you.  And  here  I  shall  seem 
"  a  little  to  digress,  but  you  will  by  and  by  find  it  per- 
"  tinent.  Ye  shall  understand,  my  dear  friends,  that 
"  amongst  the  excellent  acts  of  that  king,  one  above 
"  all  hath  the  pre-eminence.  It  was  the  erection  and 
"  institution  of  an  order  or  society  which  we  call  So- 
"  lomon's  House;  the  noblest  foundation,  as  we  think, 
"  that  ever  was  upon  the  earth,  and  the  lanthorn  of 
"  this  kingdom.  It  is  dedicated  to  the  study  of  the 
"  works  and  creatures  of  God.  Some  think  it  beareth 
"  the  founder's  name  a  little  corrupted,  as  if  it  should 
"  be  Solomona's  House.  But  the  records  write  it  as  it 
"  is  spoken.  So  as  I  take  it  to  be  denominate  of  the 
"  King  of  the  Hebrews,  which  is  famous  with  you, 
"  and  no  stranger  to  us ;  for  we  have  some  parts  of 
"  his  works,  which  with  you  are  lost;  namely,  that 
"  Natural  History  which  he  wrote  of  all  plants,  from 
"  the  cedar  of  Lib  anus,  to  the  moss  that  groweth  out  of 
"  the  watt ;  and  of  all  things  that  have  life  and  mo- 
"  tion.  This  maketh  me  think,  that  our  king  finding 
"  himself  to  symbolize  in  many  things  with  that  king 


IdO  New  Atlantis. 

"  of  the  Hebrews,   which  lived  many  years   before 
*  him,  honoured  him  with  the  title  of  this  founda- 
'  tion.     And  I  am  the  rather  induced  to  be  of  this 
'  opinion,  for  that  I  find  in  ancient  records  this  order 
"  or  society  is  sometimes  called  Solomon's  House,  and 
4  sometimes    the    college   of   the  six   days  works; 
4  whereby  I  am  satisfied,  that  our  excellent  king  had 
"  learned  from  the  Hebrews,  that  God  had  created  the 
"  world,  and  all  that  therein  is,  within  six  days  ;  and 
"  therefore  he  instituting  that  house  for  the  finding" 
u  out  of  the  true  nature  of  nil  things,  whereby  God 
"  might  have  the  more  glory  in  the  workmanship  of 
"  them,  and  men  the  more  fruit  in  the  use  of  them, 
"  did  give  it   also  that  second  name.     But  now  to 
"  come  to  our  present  purpose.     When  the  king  had 
"  forbidden  to  all  his  people  navigation  into  any  part, 
"  that  was  not  under  his  crown,  he  made  nevertheless 
"  this  ordinance;  that  every  twelve  years  there  should 
'  be  set  forth,  out  of  this  kingdom,  two.  ships  ap~ 
"  pointed  to  several  voyages;  that  in  either  of  these 
"  ships  there  should  be  a  mission  of  three  of  the  fel- 
"  lows  or  brethren  of  Solomon's  House ;  whose  errand 
"  was  only  to  give  us  knowledge  of  the  affairs  and 
"  state   of  those  countries  to  which   they  were  de- 
"  signed;  and  especially  of  the  sciences,  arts,  manu- 
"  factures,   and  inventions  of   all  the  world  ;    and 
"  withal  to  bring  unto  us  books,  instruments,  and  pat- 
"  terns  in  every  kind :  that  the  ships,  after  they  had 
"  landed  the  brethren,  should  return  ;  and  that  the  bre- 
"  thren    should  stay  abroad  till   the  new   mission. 
"  These  ships  are  not  otherwise  fraught,  than  with 
"  store  of  victuals,  and  good  quantity  of  treasure  to 
"  remain  with  the  brethren,    for  the  buying  of  such 
"  things,  and   rewarding   of  such  persons,  as  they 
"  should  think  fit.     Now  for  me  to  tell  you  how  the 
"  vulgar  sort  of  mariners  are  contained  from  being  dis- 
"  covered  at  land ;  and  how  they  that  must  be  put  on 
*c  shore  for  any  time,  colour  themselves  under  the 
"  names  of  other  nations;  and  to  what  places  these 
".voyages  have  been  designed;  and  what  places  of 
' '  -rendezvous  are  appointed  for  the  new  missions  >  and 

Netv  Atlantis,  JOi 

"  the  like  circumstances  of  the  practique;  I  may  not 
"  do  it :  neither  is  it  much  to  your  desire.  But  thus 
fc  you  see  we  maintain  a  trade,  not  for  gold,  silver,  or 
*e  jewels;  nor  for  silks;  nor  for  spices;  nor  any  other 
"  commodity  of  matter;  but  only  for  God's  first  crea- 
"  ture,  which  was  light :  to  have  light,  I  say,  of  the 
"  growth  of  all  parts  of  the  world/*  And  when  he 
had  said  this  he  was  silent ;  and  so  were  we  all.  For 
indeed  we  were  all  astonished  to  hear  so  strange 
things  so  probably  told.  And  he  perceiving  that  we 
were  willing  to  say  somewhat,  but  had  it  not  r£ady,  in 
great  courtesy  took  us  off,  and  descended  to  ask  us 
questions  of  our  voyage  and  fortunes,  and  in  the  end 
concluded,  that  we  might  do  well  to  think  with  our- 
selves, what  time  of  stay  we  would  demand  of  the 
state ;  and  bad  us  not  to  scant  ourselves;  for  he  would 
procure  such  time  as  we  desired.  Whereupon  we  all 
rose  up,  and  presented  ourselves  to  kiss  the  skirt  of  his 
tippet,  but  he  would  not  suffer  us ;  and  so  took  his 
leave.  But  when  it  came  once  amongst  our  people, 
that  the  state  used  to  offer  conditions  to  strangers  that 
would  stay,  we  had  work  enough  to  get  any  of  our 
men  to  look  to  our  ship ;  and  to  keep  them  from  going 
presently  to  the  governor  to  crave  conditions,  But 
with  much  ado  we  refrained  them,  till  we  might  agree 
what  course  to  take. 

We  took  ourselves  now  for  free  men,  seeing  there 
was  no  danger  of  our  utter  perdition  ;  and  lived  most 
joyfully,  going  abroad  and  seeing  what  was  to  be  seen 
in  the  city  and  places  adjacent  within  our  tedder; 
and  obtaining  acquaintance  with  many  of  the  city, 
not  of  the  meanest  quality;  at  whose  hands  we  found 
such  humanity,  and  such  a  freedom  and  desire  to  take 
strangers  as  it  were  into  their  bosom,  as  was  enough  to 
make  us  forget  all  that  was  dear  to  us  in  our  own 
countries :  and  continually  we  met  with  many  things^ 
right  worthy  of  observation  and  relation ;  as  indeed, 
if  there  be  a  mirror  in  the  world  worthy  to  hold  mens 
•eyes,  it  is  that  country.  One  day  there  were  two  of 
pur  company  bidden  to  a  feast  of  the  family,  as  they 
call  U.  A  most  natural,  pious,  and  reverend  custom 

102  New  Atlantis. 

it  Is,  shewing  that  nation  to  be  compounded  of  all 
goodness.  This  is  the  manner  of  it.  It  is  granted 
to  any  man,  that  shall  live  to  see  thirty  persons  des- 
cended of  his  body  alive  together,  and  all  above  three  ^ 
years  old,  to  make  this  feast,  which  is  done  at  the" 
cost  of  the  state.  The  father  of  the  family,  whom 
they  call  the  Tirsan,  two  days  before  the  feast,  taketh 
to  him  three  of  such  friends  as  he  liketh  to  choose; 
and  is  assisted  also  by  the  governor  of  the  city,  or  place 
where  the  feast  is  celebrated  ;  and  all  the  persons  of 
the  family  of  both  sexes  are  summoned  to  attend  him. 
These  two  days  the  Tirsan  sitteth  in  consultation  con<- 
cerning  the  good  estate  of  the  family.  There,  if  there 
be  any  discord  or  suits  between  any  of  the  family, 
they  are  compounded  and  appeased.  There,  if  any 
of  the  family  be  distressed  or  decayed,  order  is  taken 
for  their  relief,  and  competent  means  to  live.  There, 
if  any  be  subject  to  vice,  or  take  ill  courses,  they  are 
reproved  and  censured.  So  likewise  direction  is  given 
touching  marriages,  and  the  courses  of  life  which  any 
of  them  should  take,  with  divers  other  the  like  orders 
and  advices.  The  governor  assisteth,  to  the  end  to 
put  in  execution,  by  his  public  authority,  the  decrees 
and  orders  of  the  Tirsan,  if  they  should  be  disobeyed; 
though  that  seldom  needeth ;  such  reverence  and  obe- 
dience they  give  to  the  order  of  nature.  The  Tir- 
san doth  also  then  ever  choose  one  man  from  amongst 


his  sons,  to  Jive  in  the  house  with  him :  who  is  called 
ever  after  the  Son  of  the  Vine.  The  reason  will  here- 
after appear.  On  the  feast  day,  the  father,  or  Tirsan, 
cometh  forth  after  divine  service  into  a  large  room 
where  the  feast  is  celebrated  ;  which  room  hath  an 
half  pace  at  the  upper  end.  Against  the  wall,  in  the 
middle  of  the  half  pace,  is  a  chair  placed  for  him, 
with  a  table  and  carpet  before  it.  Over  the  chair  is 
a  state  made  round  or  oval,  and  it  is  of  ivy; 
an  ivy  somewhat  whiter  than  ours,  like  the  leaf  of 
a  silver  asp,  but  more  shining;  for  it  is  green  all 
winter.  And  the  state  is  curiously  wrought  with 
silver  and  silk  of  divers  colours,  broiding  or  bind- 
ing in  the  ivy ;  and  is  ever  of  the  work  of  some  of 

New  Atlantis. 

the  daughters  of  the  family;  and  reiled  over  at 
the  top  with  a  fine  net  of  silk  and  silver.  But  the 
substance  of  it  is  true  ivy ;  whereof,  after  it  is  taken 
down,  the  friends  of  the  family  are  desirous  to  have 
some  leaf  or  sprig  to  keep.  The  Tirsan  cometh 
forth  with  all  his  generation  or  lineage,  the  males 
before  him,  and  the  females  following  him;  and  if 
there  be  a  mother,  from  whose  body  the  whole  line- 
age is  descended,  there  is  a  traverse  placed  in  a  loft 
above  on  the  right  hand  of  the  chair,  with  a  privy 
door,  and  a  carved  window  of  glass,  leaded  with  gold 
and  blue;  where  she  sitteth,  but  is  not  seen.  When 
the  Tirsan  is  come  forth,  he  sitteth  down  in  the  chair  ; 
and  all  the  lineage  place  themselves  against  the  wall, 
both  at  his  back,  and  upon  the  return  of  the  half  pace, 
in  order  of  their  years,  without  difference  of  sex,  and 
*  stand  upon  their  feet.  When  he  is  set,  the  room  be- 
ing always  full  of  company,  but  well  kept,  and  with- 
out disorder ;  after  some  pause  there  cometh  in  from 
the  lower  end  of  the  room  a  taratan,  which  is  as  much 
as  an  herald,  and  on  either  side  of  him  two  young 
lads  ;  whereof  one  carrieth  a  scroll  of  their  shining 
yellow  parchment ;  and  the  other  a  cluster  of  grapes 
of  gold,  with  a  long  foot  or  stalk.  The  herald  and 
children  are  clothed  with  mantles  of  sea-water  green 
sattin  j  but  the  herald's  mantle  is  streamed  with  gold, 
and  hath  a  train.  Then  the  herald  with  three  curte- 
sies,  or  rather  inclination^,  cometh  up  as  far  as  the 
half  pace ;  and  there  first  taketh  into  his  hand  the 
scroll.  This  scroll  is  the  king's  charter,  containing 
gift  of  revenue,  and  many  privileges,  exemptions,  and 
points  of  honour,  granted  to  the  father  of  the  family ; 
and  is  ever  stiled  and  directed,  sc  To  such  an  one,  our 
"  well-beloved  friend  and  creditor :"  which  is  a  title 
proper  only  to  this  case.  For  they  say,  the  king  is  debtor 
to  no  man,  but  for  propagation  of  his  subjects.  The 
seal  set  to  the  king's  charter,  is  the  king's  image, 
imbossed  or  moulded  in  gold  ;  and  though  such  char- 
ters be  expedited  of  course,  and  as  of  right,  yet  they 
are  varied  by  discretion,  according  to  the  number  and 
dignity  of  the  family.  This  charter  the  herald  readeth 


104  New  Atlantis. 

aloud  :  and  while  it  is  read,  the  father  or  Tirsan 
standeth  up,  supported  by  two  of  his  sons,  such  as  he 
chooseth.  Then  the  herald  mounteth  the  half  pace, 
and  delivereth  the  charter  into  his  hand  :  and  with 
that  there  is  an  acclamation  by  all  that  are  present  in 
their  language,  which  is  thus  much  :  "  Happy  are 
"  the  people  of  Bensalem."  Then  the  herald  taketh 
into  his  hand  from  the  other  child  the  cluster  of 

;rapes,  which  is  of  gold  both  the  stalk  and  the  grapes. 

~>ut  the  grapes  are  daintily  enamelled  ;  and  if  the 
males  of  the  family  be  the  greater  number,  the  grapes 
are  enamelled  purple,  with  a  little  sun  set  on  the  top; 
if  the  females,  then  they  are  enamelled  into  a 
greenish  yellow,  with  a  crescent  on  the  top.  The 
grapes  are  in  number  as  many  as  there  are  descend- 
ants of  the  family.  This  golden  cluster  the  herald  de- 
livereth also  to  the  Tirsan  ;  who  presently  delivereth 
it  over  to  that  son,  that  he  had  formerly  chosen  to  be 
in  the  house  with  him  :  who  beareth  it  before  his  fa* 
ther  as  an  ensign  of  honour,  when  he  goeth  in  public 
ever  after  ;  and  is  thereupon  called  the  Son  of  the 
Vine.  After  this  ceremony  ended,  the  father  or  Tir- 
san retireth  ;  and  after  some  time  cometh  forth  again 
to  dinner,  where  he  sitteth  alone  under  the  state  as 
before  -,  and  none  of  his  descendants  sit  with  him,  of 
what  degree  or  dignity  soever,  except  he  hap  to  be  of 
Solomon's  house.  He  is  served  only  by  his  own  chil- 
dren, such  as  are  male  ;  who  perform  unto  him  all 
service  of  the  table  upon  the  knee  ;  and  the  women 
only  stand  about  him,  leaning  against  the  wall.  The 
room  below  the  half  pace,  hath  tables  on  the  sides 
for  the  guests  that  are  bidden  ;  who  are  served  with 
great  and  comely  order  ;  and  towards  the  end  of  din- 
ner, which,  in  the  greatest  feasts  with  them,  lasteth 
never  above  an  hour  and  an  half,  there  is  an  hymn 
sung,  varied  according  to  the  invention  of  him  that 
composeth  it,  for  they  have  excellent  poesy,  but  the 
subject  of  it  is,  always,  the  praises  of  Adam,  and 
Noah,  and  Abraham ;  whereof  the  former  two  peo- 
pled the  world,  and  the  last  was  the  father  of  the 
faithful:  concluding  ever  with  a  thanksgiving  for  the 

New  Atlantis.  105 

nativity  of  bur  Saviour,  in  whose  birth  the  Births  of 
all  are  only  blessed.  Dinner  being  done,  the  Tirsan 
retireth  again  ;  and  having  withdrawn  himself  alone 
into  a  place,  where  he  maketh  some  private  prayers, 
he  cometh  forth  the  third  time  to  give  the  bjessing; 
with  all  his  descendents,  who  stand  about  him  as  at 
the  first.  Then  he  calleth  them  forth  by  one  and  by 
one,  by  name,  as  he  pleaseth,  though  seldom  the 
order  of  age  be  inverted.  The  person  that  is  called, 
the  table  being  before  removed,  kneeleth  down  be- 
fore the  chair,  and  the  father  layeth  his  hand  upon  his 
head,  or  her  head,  and  giveth  the  blessing  in  these 
words  :  "Son  of  Bensalem,  or  daughter  of  Bensalem, 
"  thy  father  saith  it ;  the  man  by  whom  thou  hast 
"  breath  and  life  speaketh  the  word  ;  The  blessing  of 
"  the  everlasting  Father,  the  Prince  of  peace,  and  the 
"  Holy  Dove  be  upon  thee,  and  make  the  days  of 
-"  thy  pilgrimage  good  and  many."  This  he  saith  to 
every  of  them;  and  that  done,  if  there  be  any  of  his 
sons  of  eminent  merit  and  virtue,  so  they  be  not  above 
two,  he  calleth  for  them  again ;  and  saith,  laying  his 
arm  over  their  shoulders,  they  standing;  "  Sons,  it  is 
"  well  ye  are  born,  give  God  the  praise,  and  perse- 
"  vere  to  the  end/'  And  withal  he  delivereth  to 
either  of  them  a  jewel,  made  in  the  figure  of  an  ear 
of  wheat,  which  they  ever  after  wear  in  the  front  of 
their  turban  or  hat.  This  done,  thev  fall  to  music 
and  dances,  and  other  recreations,  after  their  man- 
ner, for  the  rest  of  the  day.  This  is  the  full  order  of 
that  feast. 

By  that  time  six  or  seven  days  were  spent,  I  was 
fallen  into  strait  acquaintance  with  a  merchant  of  that 
city,  whose  name  was  Joabin.  He  was  a  Jew,  and 
circumcised :  for  they  have  some  few  stirps  of  Jews 
yet  remaining  among  them,  whom  they  leave  to  their 
own  religion  :  which  they  may  the  better  do,  be- 
cause they  are  of  a  far  differing  disposition  from  the 
Jews  in  other  parts.  For  whereas  they  hate  the  name 
of  Christ,  and  have  a  secret  inbred  rancour  against  the 
people  amongst  whom  they  live  :  these,  contrariwise, 
give  unto  our  Saviour  many  high  attributes,  and  love 

106  Nad  Atlantis. 

the  nation  of  Bcnsalem  extremely.  Surely  this  man 
of  whom  I  speak,  would  ever  acknowledge  that 
Christ  was  born  of  a  virgin  :  and  that  he  was  more 
than  a  man  ;  and  he  would  tell  how  God  made  him 
ruler  of  the  seraphims  which  guard  his  throne  ;  and 
they  call  him  also  the  milken  way,  and  the  Eliah  of  the 
Messias;  and  many  other  high  names  ;  which  though 
they  be  inferior  to  his  divine  Majesty,  yet  they  are 
far  from  the  language  of  other  Jews.  And  for  the 
country  of  Bensalem,  this  man  would  make  no  end  of 
commending  it:  being  desirous  by  tradition  among 
the  Jews  there,  to  have  it  believed,  that  the  people 
thereof  were  of  the  generations  of  Abraham,  by  an- 
other son,  whom  they  call  Nachoran  ;  and  that  Mo- 
ses, by  a  secret  cabala,  ordained  the  laws  of  Bensa- 
lem which  they  now  use  ;  and  that  when  the  Messias 
should  come,  and  sit  in  his  throne  at  Hieursalem,  the 
king  of  Bensalem  should  sit  at  his  feet,  whereas  other 
kings  should  keep  a  great  distance.  But  yet  setting 
aside  these  Jewish  dreams,  the  man  wras  a  wise  man, 
and  learned,  and  of  great  policy,  and  excellently  seen 
in  the  laws  and  customs  of  that  nation.  Amongst 
other  discourses,  one  day  I  told  him  1  was  much  af- 
fected with  the  relation  I  had  from  some  of  the  com- 
pany, of  their  custom  in  holding  the  feast  of  the 
family;  for  that,  methought,  I  had  never  heard  of  a 
solemnity  wherein  nature  did  so  much  preside.  And 
because  propagation  of  families  proceedcth  from  the 
Kuptial  copulation,  I  desired  to  know  of  him,  what 
laws  and  customs  they  had  concerning  marriage  ;  and 
whether  they  kept  marriage  well ;  and  whether  they 
were  tied  to  one  wife  ?  For  that  where  population  is 
so  much  affected,  and  such  as  with  them  it  seemed 
to  be,  there  is  commonly  permission  of  plurality  of 
wives.  To  this  he  said,  "  You  have  reason  for  to 
"  commend  that  excellent  institution  of  the  feast  of 
"  the  family  ,  and  indeed  we  have  experience,  that 
"  those  families  that  are  partakers  of  the  blessing  qf 
"  that  least,  do  flourish  and  prosper  ever  after  in  an 
"  extraordinary  manner.  But  hear  me  now,  and  I 
"  will  tell  you  what  I  know.  You  shall  understand, 

New  Atlantis.  \oi 

"  that  there  is  not  under  the  heavens  so  chaste  a  na- 
"  tion  as  this  of  Bensalem ;  nor  so  free  from  all  pol- 
"  lution  or  foulness.     It  is  the  virgin  of  the  world.     I 
<c  remember    I    have  read  in  one  of  your   European 
t(  books,  of  an  holy  hermit  among  you,  that  desired 
"  to  see  the  spirit  of  fornication ;  and  there  appeared 
"  to  him  a  little  foul  ugly  yEthiop  ;  but  if  he  had  de- 
"  sired  to  see  the  spirit  of  chastity  of  Bensalem,  it 
"  would  have  appeared  to  him  in   the  likeness  of  a 
"  fair    beautiful  cherubim.      For  there  is    nothing 
"  amongst  mortal  men  more  fair  and  admirable,  than 
"  the  chaste  minds    of  this   people.     Know    there- 
"  fore  that  with  them  there  are  no  stews,  no  dissolute 
c<  houses,  no  courtesans,  nor  any  thing  of  that  kind. 
"  Nay,  they  wonder,  with  detestation,  at  you  in  Eu- 
"  rope,  which  permit  such  things.    They  say,  ye  have 
"  put  marriage  out  of  office  :  for  marriage  is  ordained 
«  a  remedy  for  unlawful  concupiscence  ;  and  natural 
"  concupiscence  seemeth  as  a  spur  to  marriage.    But 
"  when  men  have  at  hand  a  remedy  more  agreeable 
"  to  their  corrupt  will,  marriage  is  almost  expulsed. 
"  And  therefore  there  are  with  you  seen  infinite  men 
"  that  marry  not,  butchuse  rather  a  libertine  and  im- 
6  pure  single  life,  than  to  be  yoked  in  marriage  ;  and 
many  that  do  marry,  marry  late,  when  the  prime 
and  strength  of  their  years  is  past.  And  when  they 
(  do  marry,  what  is  marriage  to  them  but  a  very  bar- 
gain ;  wherein  is  sought  alliance,  or  portion,  or  re- 
(  putation,  with    some  desire,   almost  indifferent  of 
(  issue  ;  and  not  the  faithful  nuptial  union  of  man  and 
'  wife,  that  was  first  instituted.  Neither  is  it  possible, 
"  that  those  who  have  cast  away  so  basely  so  much  of 
c  their  strength  should  greatly  esteem  children,  being 
i  of  the  same  matter,  as  chaste  men  do.     So  likewise 
"  during  marriage,  is   the  case  much  amended,  as  it 
'  ought  to  be  if  those  things  were  tolerated  only  for 
'  necessity  ?     No,  for  they  remain  still  as  a   very  at- 
6  front  to  marriage.     The  haunting  of  those  dissolute 
"  places,  or  resort  to  courtesans,  are  no  more  punished 
"  in  married  men  than   in  bachelors.     And  the  de- 
"  praved  custom  of  change,  and  the  deliglit  in  mere- 

New  Atlantis. 

c  trlcious  embracements,  where  sin  is  turned  Into  art, 
*  jnaketh  marriage  a  dull  thing,  and  a  kind  of  impo- 
c  sition  or  tax.  They  hear  you  defend  these  things, 
€i  as  done  to  avoid  greater  evils  ;  as  advoutries,  de- 
"  flouring  of  virgins,  unnatural  lust,  and  the  like.  But 
"  they  say,  this  is  a  preposterous  wisdom ;  and  they  call 
"  it  Lot's  offer,  who  to  save  his  guests  from  abusing,  ofc 
'  fered  his  daughters  :  nay,  they  say  farther,  that  there 
'  is  little  gained  in  this  ;  for  that  the  same  vices  and 
c  appetites  do  still  remain  and  abound  ;  unlawful  lust 
(  being  like  a  furnace,  that  if  you  stop  the  flames  al- 
•"  together  it  will  quench  ;  but  if  you  give  it  any  vent 
"  it  will  rage.  As  for  masculine  love,  they  have  no 
"  touch  of  it ;  and  yet  there  are  not  so  faithful  and 
"  inviolate  friendships  in  the  world  again  as  are  there  ; 
"  and  to  speak  generally,  as  I  said  before,  I  have  not 
"  read  of  any  such  chastity  in  any  people  as  theirs. 
"  And  their  usual  saying  is,That  whosoever  is  unchaste 
"  cannot  reverence  himself:  and  they  say,  That  the 
"  reverence  of  a  man's  self  is,  next  religion,  the  chief- 
"  est  bridle  of  all  vices."  And  when  he  had  said  this, 
the  good  Jew  paused  a  little ;  whereupon  I,  far  more 
willing  to  hear  him  speak  on  than  to  speak  myself; 
yet  thinking  it  decent,  that  upon  his  pause  of  speech 
I  should  not  be  altogether  silent,  said  only  this;  "that 
"  I  would  say  to  him,  as  the  widow  of  Sarepta  said  to 
"  Elias ;  that  he  was  come  to  bring  to  memory 
"  our  sins  ;  and  that  I  confess  the  righteousness  of 
"  Bensalem  was  greater  than  the  righteousness  of  Eu- 
"  rope."  At  which  speech  he  bowed  his  head,  and 
went  on  in  this  manner  :•"  They  have  also  many  wise 
"  and  excellent  laws  touching  marriage.  They  allow 
"  no  polygamy ;  they  have  ordained  that  none  do 
"  intermarry,  or  contract,  until  a  month  be  passed 
t(  from  their  first  interview.  Marriage  without  con- 
"  sent  of  parents  they  do  not  make  void,  but  they 
"  mulct  it  in  the  inheritors  :  for  the  children  of  such 
"  marriages  are  not  admitted  to  inherit  above  a  third 
"  part  of  their  parent's  inheritance.  .  I  have  read  in  a 
•'  book  of  one  of  your  men,  of  a  feigned  common- 
«  wealth,  where  the  married  couple  are  permitted 

New  Atlantis.  109 

"  before  they  contract,  to  see  one  another  naked. 
**  This  they  dislike  ;  for  they  think  it  a  scorn  to  give 
"  a  refusal  after  so  familiar  knowledge  :  but  because 
"  of  many  hidden  defects  in  men  and  womens  bodies, 
<c  they  have  a  more  civil  way ;  for  they  have  near 
"  every  town  a  couple  of  pools,  which  they  call  Adam 
"  and  Eve's  pools,  where  it  is  permitted  to  one  of  the 
"  friends  of  the  man,  and  another  of  the  friends  of 
*c  the  woman,  to  see  them  severally  bathe  naked. 

And  as  we  were  thus  in  conference,  there  came 
Out  one  that  seemed  to  be  a  messenger,  in  a  rich 
huke,  that  spake  with  the  Jew  :  whereupon  he  turned 
to  me,  and  said ;  "  You  will  pardon  me,  for  I  am 
"  commanded  away  in  haste."  The  next  morning  he 
came   to    me  again  joyful,  as  it  seemed,  and  said, 
*c  There  is  word  come  to  the  governor  of  the  city, 
"  that  one  of  the  fathers  of  Solomon's  House  will  be 
"  here  this  day  seven-night :  we  have  seen  none  of 
"  them  this  dozen  years.     His  coming  is  in  state; 
"  but  the  cause  of  his  coming  is  secret.     I  will  pro- 
"  vide  you  and  your  fellows  of  a  good  standing  to 
"  see  his  entry.*'     I  thanked  him,  and  told  him,  I 
was  most  glad  of  the  news.    The  day  being  come,  he 
made  his  entry.    He  was  a  man  of  middle  stature  and 
age,  comely  of  person,  and  had  an  aspect  as  if  he 
pitied  men.     He  was  clothed  in  a  robe  of  fine  black 
cloth,  with  wide  sleeves  and  a  cape.     His  under  gar- 
ment was  of  excellent  white  linen  down  to  the  foot, 
girt  with  a  girdle  of  the  same ;  and  a  sindon  or  tippet 
of  the  same  about   his  neck.     He  had  gloves  that 
were  curious,  and  set  with  stone  ;  and  shoes  of  peach- 
coloured  velvet.    His  neck  was  bare  to  the  shoulders. 
His  hat  was  like  a  helmet,  or  Spanish  Montera ;  and 
his   locks  curled  below  it  decently :    they  were   of 
colour  brown.     His  beard  was  cut  round,  and  of  the 
same  colour  with  his  hair,  somewhat  lighter.   He  was 
carried  in  a  rich  chariot  without  wheels,  litter-wise, 
With  two  horses  at  either  end,  richly  trapped  in  blue 
Velvet  embroidered ;  and  two  footmen  on  each  side 
in  the  like  attire.     The  chariot  was  all  of  cedar,  gilt, 
and  adorned  with  crvstal ;  save  that  the  fore-end  had 

no  New 'Atlantis. 

panncls  of  sapphires,  set  in  borders  of  gold,  and  the 
hinder  end  the  like  of  emeralds  of  the  Peru  colour. 
There  was  also  a  sun  of  gold,  radiant  upon  the  top,  in 
the  midst ;  and  on  the  top  before  a  small  cherub  of 
gold,  with  wings  displayed.  The  chariot  was  co- 
vered with  cloth  of  gold  tissued  upon  blue.  He  had 
before  him  fifty  attendants,  young  men  all,  in  white 
sattin  loose  coats  to  the  mid-leg,  and  stockings  of 
white  silk  ;  and  shoes  of  blue  velvet ;  and  hats  of 
blue  velvet ;  with  fine  plumes  of  divers  colours,  set 
round  like  hat-bands.  Next  before  the  chariot  went 
two  men  bare  headed,  in  linen  garments  down  to  the 
foot,  girt,  and  shoes  of  blue  velvet,  who  carried  the 
one  a  crosier,  the  other  a  pastoral  staff,  like  a  sheep- 
hook  ;  neither  of  them  of  metal,  but  the  crosier  of 
"balm-wood,  the  pastoral  staff  of  cedar.  Horsemen  he 
had  none,  neither  before  nor  behind  his  chariot:  as  it 
seemeth,  to  avoid  all  tumult  and  trouble.  Behind  his 
chariot  went  all  the  officers  and  principals  of  the 
companies  of  the  city.  He  sat  alone,  upon  cushions 
of  a  kind  of  excellent  plush,  blue  ;  and  under  his  foot 
curious  carpets  of  silk  of  divers  colours,  like  the  Per- 
sian, but  far  finer.  He  held  up  his  bare  hand  as  he 
went,  as  blessing  the  people,  but  in  silence.  The 
street  was  wonderfully  well  kept;  so  that  there  was 
never  any  army  had  their  men  stand  in  better  battle- 
array,  than  the  people  stood.  The  windows  likewise 
were  not  crouded,  but  every  one  stood  in  them  as  if 
they  had  been  placed.  When  the  shew  was  past,  the 
Jew  said  to  me  ;  "  I  shall  not  be  able  to  attend  you 
"  as  I  would,  in  regard  of  some  charge  the  city 
"  hath  laid  upon  me,  for  the  entertaining  of  this  great 
"  person."  Three  days  after  the  Jew  came  to  me 
again,  and  said ;  "  Ye  are  happy  men  ;  for  the  father 
"  of  Solomon's  House  taketh  knowledge  of  your 
"  being  here,  and  commanded  me  to  tell  you,  that  he 
"  will  admit  all  your  company  to  his  presence,  and 
"  have  private  conference  with  one  of  you  that  ye 
"  shall  choose  :  and  for  this  hath  appointed  the  next 
"  day  after  to-morrow.  And  because  he  meaneth  to 
"  give  you  his  blessing,  he  hath  appointed  it  in  the 

Nezv  Atlantis.  1 1 1 

"  forenoon."  We  came  at  our  day  and  hour,  and  I 
was  chosen  by  my  fellows  for  the  private  access.  We 
found  him  in  a  fair  chamber,  richly  hanged,  and 
carpeted  under  foot,  without  any  degrees  to  the  state ; 
he  was  set  upon  a  low  throne  richly  adorned,  and  a 
rich  cloth  of  state  over  his  head,  of  blue  sattin  em- 
broidered. He  was  alone,  save  that  he  had  two  pages 
of  honour,  on  either  hand  one,  finely  attired  in  white. 
Jrlis  under-garments  were  like  what  we  saw  him  wear 
in  the  chariot ;  but  instead  of  his  gown,  he  had  on  him 
a  mantle  with  a  cap,  of  the  same  fine  black,  fastened 
about  him.  When  we  came  in,  as  we  were  taught, 
we  bowed  low  at  our  first  entrance  ;  and  when  we 
were  come  near  his  chair,  he  stood  up,  holding  forth 
his  hand  ungloved,  and  in  posture  of  blessing ;  and 
we  every  one  of  us  stooped  down,  and  kissed  the  hem 
of  his  tippet.  That  done,  the  rest  departed,  and  I  re- 
mained. Then  he  warned  the  pages  forth  of  the 
room,  and  caused  me  to  sit  down  beside  him,  and 
spake  to  me  thus  in  the  Spanish  tongue  : 

"  GOD  bless  thee,  my  son ;  I  will  give  thee  the 
i  greatest  jewel  that  I  have.  For  I  will  impart  unto 
£  thee,  for  the  love  of  God  and  men,  a  relation  of 
"  the  true  state  of  Solomon's  House.  Son,  to  make 
"  you  know  the  true  state  of  Solomon's  House,  I  will 
"  keep  this  order.  First,  I  will  set  forth  unto  you  the 
"  end  of  our  foundation.  Secondly,  the  preparations 
"  and  instruments  we  have  for  our  works.  Thirdly, 
"  the  several  employments  and  functions  whereto  our 
"  fellows  are  assigned.  And,  fourthly,  the  ordinances 
u  and  rites  which  we  observe. 

"  THE  end  of  our  foundation  is  the  knowledge  of 
"  causes,  and  secret  motions  of  things ;  and  the  en- 
<c  larging  of  the  bounds  of  human  empire,  to  the 
"  effecting  of  all  things  possible. 

"  THE  preparations  and  instruments  are  these. 
"  We  have  large  and  deep  caves  of  several  depths  : 
ic  the  deepest  are  sunk  six  hundred  fathom  ;  and 

New  Atlantis* 

"  some  of  them  are  digged  and  made  under  great 
"  hills  and  mountains  :  so  that  if  you  reckon  to- 
"  gether  the  depth  of  the  hill,  and  the  depth  of  the 
"  cave,  they  are,  some  of  them,  above  three  miles 
"  deep.  For  we  find  that  the  depth  of  an  hill,  and 
"  the  depth  of  a  cave  from  the  flat,  is  the  same  thing  ; 
"  both  remote  alike  from  the  sun  and  heavens  beams, 
"  and  from  the  open  air.  These  caves  we  call  the 
"  lower  region.  And  we  use  them  for  all  coagu- 
'  lations,  indurations,  refrigerations,  and  conserva- 
1  tions  of  bodies.  We  use  them  likewise  for  the 
46  imitation  of  natural  mines:  and  the  producing  also 
"  of  new  artificial  metals,  by  compositions  and  ma- 
"  tetials  which  we  use  and  lay  there  for  many  years. 
"  We  use  them  also  sometimes,  which  may  seem 
"  strange,  for  curing  of  some  diseases,  and  for  pro- 
"  longation  of  life,  in  some  hermits  that  choose  to 
"  live  there,  well  accommodated  of  all  things  ne- 
«c  cessary,  and  indeed  live  very  long  ;  by  whom  also 
"  we  learn  many  things. 

"  We  have  burials  in  several  earths,  where  we  put 
"  divers  cements,  as  the  Chinese  do  their  porcellane. 
"  But  we  have  them  in  greater  variety,  and  some  of 
*c  them  more  fine.  We  have  also  great  variety  of 
"  composts,  and  soils,  for  the  making  of  the  earth 
"  fruitful. 

"  We  have  high  towers;  the  highest  about  half  a 

*e  mile  in  height;  and  some  of  them  likewise  set  upon 

"  high  mountains;  so   that  the  vantage  of  the  hill 

"  with  the  tower,  is  in  the  highest  of  them  three 

"  miles  at  least.     And  these  places  we  call  the  upper 

"  region:  accounting  the  air  between  the  high  places 

"  and  the  low,  as  a  middle  region.     We  use  these 

'  towers,  according  to  their  several  heights  and  situa- 

'  tions,  for  insolation,  refrigeration,  conservation,  and 

c  for  the  view  of  divers  meteors  ;    as  winds,  rain, 

'  snow,  hail,  and  some   of  the  fiery  meteors  also. 

*  And  upon  them,  in  some  places,  are  dwellings  of 

6  hermits,  whom  we  visit  sometimes,  and  instruct 

"  what  to  observe. 

w  We  have  great  lakes  both  salt  and  fresh,  where* 

Netv  Atlantic  113 

"  of  we  have  use  for  the  fish  and  fowl.  We  use  them 
*<  also  for  burials  of  some  natural  bodies:  for  we  find 
"  a  difference  in  things  buried  in  earth,  or  in  air 
"  below  the  earth  ;  and  things  buried  in  water.  We 
"  have  also  pools,  of  which  some  do  strain  fresh 
"  water  out  of  salt ;  and  others  by  art  do  turn  fresh 
"  water  into  salt.  We  have  also  some  rocks  in  the 
<(  midst  of  the  sea :  and  some  bays  upon  the  shore 
"  for  some  works,  wherein  is  required  the  air  and 
cc  vapour  of  the  sea.  We  have  likewise  violent  streams 
<c  and  cataracts,  which  serve  us  for  many  motions  : 
cc  and  likewise  engines  for  multiplying  and  enforcing 
"  of  winds,  to  set  also  on  going  clivers  motions. 

"  We  have  also  a  number  of  artificial  wells  and 
"  fountains,  made  in  imitation  of  the  natural  sources 
"  and  baths ;  as  tinctured  on  vitriol,  sulphur,  steel, 
"  brass,  lead*  nitre,  and  other  minerals.  And  again, 
"  we  have  little  wells  for  infusions  of  many  things, 
*c  where  the  waters  take  the  virtue  quicker  and  better, 
<c  than  in  vessels  or  basons.  And  amongst  them  we 
"  have  a  water,  which  we  call  water  of  paradise, 
**  being,  by  that  we  do  to  it,  made  very  sovereign 
"  for  health  and  prolongation  of  life. 

"  We  have  also  great  and  spacious  houses,  where 
"  we  imitate  and  demonstrate  meteors ;  as  snow,  hail, 
<c  rain,  some  artificial  rains  of  bodies,  and  not  of 
<c  water,  thunders,  lightnings  ;  also  generations  of  bo- 
"  dies  in  air ;  as  frogs,  flies,  and  divers  others. 

"  We  have  also  certain  chambers,  which  we  call 
"  chambers  of  health,  where  we  qualify  the  air  as 
"  we  think  good  and  proper  for  the  cure  of  divers 
"  diseases,  and  preservation  of  health. 

"  We  have  also  fair  and  large  baths,  of  several 
"  mixtures,  for  the  cure  of  diseases,  and  the  restoring 
"  of  man's  body  from  are  faction  :  and  others,  for  the 
"  confirming  of  it  in  strength  of  sinews,  vital  parts, 
"  and  the  very  juice  and  substance  of  the  body. 

"  We  have   also  large  and  various  orchards  and 

"  gardens,   wherein    we    do    not.  so    much    respect 

c  beauty,  as  variety  of  ground  and  soil,  proper  for 

."  divers  trees  and   herbs:  and  some  very  spacious, 

VOL.  II.  J 

11*  New  Atlantis. 

"  where  trees  and  berries  are  set,  whereof  we  make 
"divers  kinds  of  drinks,  besides  the  vineyards.  In 
"  these  we  practise  likewise  all  conclusions  of  graft- 
*'  ing  and  inoculating,  as  well  of  wild  trees  as  of 
*'  fruit  trees,  which  produceth  many  effects.  And 
"  we  make,  by  art,  in  the  same  orchards  and  gar- 
<c  dens,  trees  and  flowers  to  come  earlier  or  later  than 
ic  their  seasons;  and  to  come  up  and  bear  more 
"  speedily  than  by  their  natural  course  they  do.  We 
"  make  them  also  by  art  greater  much  than  their  na- 
"  ture ;  and  their  fruit  greater,  and  sweeter,  and  of 
"  differing  taste,  smell,  colour,  and  figure,  from  their 
"  nature.  And  many  of  them  we  so  order,  as  they 
"  become  of  medicinal  use. 

"  We  have  also  means  to  make  divers  plants  rise 
"  by  mixtures  of  earths  without  seeds ;  and  likewise 
tc  to  make  divers  new  plants,  differing  from  the 
"  vulgar ;  and  to  make  one  tree  or  plant  turn  into 
"  another. 

"  We  have  also  parks  and  enclosures  of  all  sorts  of 
"  beasts  and  birds,  which  we  use  not  only  for  view  or 
"  rareness,  but  likewise  for  dissections  and  trials;  that 
"  thereby  we  may  take  light  what  may  be  wrought  upon 
((  the  body  of  man.  Wherein  we  find  many  strange 
"  effects ;  as  continuing  life  in  them,  though  divers 
(e  parts,  which  you  account  vital,  be  perished  and 
•"  taken  forth  ;  resuscitating  of  some  that  seem  dead 
cc  in  appearance ;  and  the  like.  We  try  also  all  poi- 
tf  sons  and  other  medicines  upon  them,  as  well  of 
"  chirurgery  as  physic.  By  art  likewise,  we  make  them 
"  greater  or  taller,  than  their  kind  is;  and  contrari- 
cc  wise  dwarf  them,  and  stay  their  growth  :  we  make 
"  them  more  fruitful  and  bearing  than  their  kind  is ; 
cc  and  contrariwise  barren,  and  not  generative.  Also 
"  we  make  them  differ  in  colour,  shape,  activity,  many 
"•ways.  We  find  means  to  make  commixtures  and 
"  copulations  of  divers  kinds,  which  have  produced 
*c  many  new  kinds,  and  them  not  barren,  as  the  ge- 
"  neral  opinion  is.  We  make  a  number  of  kinds  of 
*f  serpents,  worms,  flies,  fishes,  of  putrefaction  ; 
"  whereof  some  are  advanced  in  effect  to  be  perfect 

New  Atlantis.  115 

cc  creatures,  like  beasts,  or  birds;  and  have  sexes,  and 
*'  do  propagate.  Neither  do  we  this  by  chance,  but 
"  we  know  beforehand,  of  what  matter  and  com- 
*c  mixture,  what  kind  of  those  creatures  will  arise. 

"  We  have  also  particular  pools,  where  we  make 
cc  trials  upon  fishes,  as  we  have  said  before  of  beasts 
"  and  birds. 

"  We  have  also  places  for  breed  and  generation  of 
fc  those  kinds  of  worms,  and  flies,  which  are  of  spe- 
"  cial  use  ;  such  as  are  with  you  your  silk-worms  and 
"  bees. 

"  I  will  not  hold  you  long  with  recounting  of 
cc  our  brew-houses,  bake-houses,  and  kitchens,  where 
"  are  made  divers  drinks,  breads,  and  meats,  rare,  and 
"  of  special  effects.  Wines  we  have  of  grapes ;  and 
"  drinks  of  other  juice,  of  fruits,  of  grains,  and  of 
(t  roots :  and  of  mixtures  with  honey,  sugar,  manna, 
"  and  fruits  dried  and  decocted.  Also  of  the  tears 
"  or  woundings  of  trees,  and  of  the  pulp  of  canes. 
"  And  these  drinks  are  of  several  ages,  some  to  the 
"  age  or  last  of  forty  years.  We  have  drinks  also 
*c  brewed  with  several  herbs,  and  roots,  and  spices ; 
"  yea,  with  several  fleshes,  and  white  meats  ;  whereof 
*'  some  of  the  drinks  are  such  as  they  are  in  effect 
"  meat  and  drink  both  :  so  that  clivers,  especially  in 
"  age,  do  desire  to  live  with  them,  with  little  or  no 
<c  meat,  or  bread.  And  above  all,  we  strive  to  have 
*'  drinks  of  extreme  thin  parts,  to  insinuate  into  the 
"  body,  and  yet  without  all  biting,  sharpness,  or  fret- 
**  ting ;  insomuch  as  some  of  them  put  upon  the  back 
"  of  your  hand,  will,  with  a  little  stay,  pass  through  to 
"  the  palm,  and  yet  taste  mild  to  the  mouth.  We 
"  have  also  waters  which  we  ripen  in  that  fashion  as 
<c  they  become  nourishing ;  so  that  they  are  indeed 
"  excellent  drink;  and  many  will  use  no  other. 
16  Breads  we  have  of  several  grains,  roots,  and  ker- 
"  nels:  yea,  and  some  of  flesh,  and  fish  dried;  with 
<c  divers  kinds  of  leavenings  and  seasonings  ;  so  that 
<c  some  do  extremely  move  appetites;  some  do  nou- 
^  rish  so,  as  divers  do  live  on  them,  without  any  other 
"  meat;  who  liye  very  long.  So  for  meats,  we  have 


116  New  Atlantis. 

cc  some  of  them  so  beaten,  and  made   tender,   and 
"  mortified,  yet  without  all  corrupting,  as  a  weak  heat 

'  of  the  stomach  will  turn  them  into  good  chylus,  as 
<c  well  as  a  strong  heat  would  meat  otherwise  pre- 
"  pared.  We  have  some  meats  also,  and  breads  and 
"  drinks,  which  taken  by  men  enable  them  to  fast 

'  long  after ;  and  some  other,  that  used  make  the 
((  very  flesh  of  mens  bodies  sensibly  more  hard  and 
£c  tough,  and  their  strength  far  greater  than  otherwise 
"  it  would  be. 

"  We  have  dispensatories,  or  shops  of  medicines; 
"  wherein  you  may  easily  think,  if  we  have  such 
"  Variety  of  plants  and  living  creatures  more  than  you 
"  have  in  Europe,  for  we  know  what  you  have,  the 
(t  simples,  drugs,  and  ingredients  of  medicines,  must 
"  likewise  be  in  so  much  the  greater  variety.  We 
<f  have  them  likewise  of  divers  ages,  and  long  fer- 
"  mentations.  And  for  their  preparations,  we  have 
"  not  only  all  manner  of  exquisite  distillations  and  se- 
"  parations,  and  especially  by  gentle  heats  and  per- 
"  eolations  through  divers  strainers,  yea,  and  sub- 
"  stances;  but  also  exact  forms  of  composition, 
"  whereby  they  incorporate  almost  as  they  were  na- 
"  tural  simples. 

"  We  have  also  divers  mechanical  arts,  which  you 
"  have  not ;  and  stuffs  made  by  them  ;  as  papers, 
"  linen,  silks,  tissues;  dainty  works  of  feathers  of 
*'  wonderful  lustre  ;  excellent  dyes,  and  many  others: 
"  and  shops  likewise  as  well  for  such  as  are  not 
<e  brought  into  vulgar  use  amongst  us,  as  for  those  that 
."  are.  For  you  must  know,  that  of  the  things  before 
<c  recited,  many  of  them  are  grown  into  use  through- 
"  out  the  kingdom  ;  but  yet,  if  they  did  flow  from 
"  our  invention,  we  have  of  them  also  for  patterns 
"  and  principals. 

(f  We  have  also  furnaces  of  great  diversities,  and 
"  that  keep  great  diversity  of  heats;  fierce  and  quick ; 
€f  strong  and  constant ;  soft  and  mild;  blown,  quiet, 
"  dry,  moist ;  and  the  like.  But  above  all,  we  have 
"heats  in  imitation  of  the  sun's  and  heavenly  bodies 
"  heats,  that  pass  divers  inequalities/  and,  as  it  were, 

New  Atlantis.  117 

"  orbs,  progresses,  and  returns,  whereby  we  produce 
'*  admirable  effects.  Besides,  we  have  heats  of  dungs, 
"  and  of  bellies  and  maws  of  living  creatures,  and  of 
"  their  blood  and  bodies;  and  of  hays  and  herbs  laid 
"  up  moist;  of  lime  unquenched;  and  such  like.  In- 
"  struments  also  which  generate  heat  only  by  motion. 
"  And  farther,  places  for  strong  insolations:  and 
"  again,  places  under  the  earth,  which  by  nature  or 
"  art,  yield  heat.  These  divers  heats  we  use,  as  the 
"  nature  of  the  operation  which  we  intend  requireth. 

"  We  have  also  perspective  houses,  where  we 
"  make  demonstrations  of  all  lights  and  radiations; 
"  and  of  all  colours;  and  out  of  things  uncoloured 
"  and  transparent,  we  can  represent  unto  you  all  se- 
"  veral  colours:  not  in  rain-bows,  as  it  is  in  gems  and 
"  prisms,  but  of  themselves  single.  We  represent 
"  also  all  multiplications  of  light,  which  we  carry  to 
"  great  distance ;  and  make  so  sharp  as  to  discern 
"  small  points  and  lines  :  also  all  colorations  of  light: 
"  all  delusions  and  deceits  of  the  sight,  in  figures, 
ic  magnitudes,  motions,  colours :  all  demonstrations 
"  of  shadows.  We  find  also  divers  means  yet  un- 
"  known  to  you,  of  producing  of  light  originally  from 
"  divers  bodies.  We  procure  means  of  seeing  objects 
"  afar  off;  as  in  the  heaven  and  remote  places  ;  and 
fc  represent  things  near  as  far  off;  and  things  afar  off 
"  as  pear  ;  making  feigned  distances.  We  have  also 
*'  helps  for  the  sight,  far  above  spectacles  and  glasses 
"  in  use.  We  have  also  glasses  and  means,  to  see 
"  small  and  minute  bodies  perfectly  and  distinctly  ; 
"  as  the  shapes  and  colours  of  small  flies  and  worms, 
"  grains,  and  flaws  in  gems,  which  cannot  otherwise 
"  be  seen  ;  observations  in  urine  and  blood,  not 
"  otherwise  to  be  seen.  We  make  artificial  rain- 
"  bows,  halos,  and  circles  about  light.  We  repre- 
"  sent  also  all  manner  of  reflexions,  refractions,  and 
"  multiplications  of  visual  beams  of  objects. 

"  We  have  also  precious  stones  of  all  kinds,  many 
"  of  them  of  great  beauty,  and  to  you  unknown ; 
"  crystals  likewise  ;  and  glasses  of  divers  kinds  ;  and 
"  amongst  them  some  of  metals  vitrificatcd,  and  other 

118  New  Atlantic 

"  materials,  besides  those  of  which  you  make  glass, 
"  Also  a  number  of  fossils,  and  imperfect  minerals, 
<f  which  you  have  not.  Likewise  loadstones  of  pro- 
cc  digious  virtue ;  and  other  rare  stones,  both  natural 
"  and  artificial. 

"  We  have  also  sound-houses,  where  we  practise 
<c  and  demonstrate  all  sounds,  and  their  generation. 
<c  We  have  harmonies  which  you  have  not,  of  quarter- 
"  sounds,  and  lesser  slides  of  sounds.  Divers  instru- 
<c  ments  of  music  likewise  to  you  unknown,  some 
ce  sweeter  than  any  you  have  ;  together  with  bells  and 
"  rings  that  are  dainty  and  sweet.  We  represent 
"  small  sounds  as  great  and  deep ;  likewise  great 
"  sounds  extenuate  and  sharp;  we  make  divers 
"  tremblings  and  warblings  of  sounds,  which  in  their 
"  original  are  entire.  We  represent  and  imitate  all 
"  articulate  sounds  and  letters,  and  the  voices  and 
"  notes  of  beasts  and  birds.  We  have  certain  helps, 
"  which  set  to  the  ear  do  further  the  hearing  greatly. 
"  We  have  also  divers  strange  and  artificial  echos, 
cc  reflecting  the  voice  many  times,  and  as  it  were 
"  tossing  it :  and  some  that  give  back  the  voice 
"  louder  than  it  came ;  some  shriller,  and  some 
"  deeper ;  yea,  some  rendering  the  voice  differing  in 
"  the  letters  or  articulate  sound  from  that  they  re- 
"  ceive.  We  have  also  means  to  convey  sounds  in 
"  trunks  and  pipes,  in  straight  lines  and  distances. 

rt  We  have  also  perfume-houses ;  wherewith  we 
"  join  also  practices  of  taste.  We  multiply  smells, 
"  which  may  seem  strange.  We  imitate  smells, 
"  making  all  smells  to  breathe  out  of  other  mixtures 
"  than  those  that  give  them.  We  make  divers  imi- 
"  tations  of  taste  likewise,  so  that  they  will  deceive 
"  any  man's  taste.  And  in  this  house  we  contain 
"  also  a  confiture-house ;  where  we  make  all  sweet- 
"  meats,  dry  and  moist ;  and  divers  pleasant  wines, 
"  milks,  broths,  and  salads,  in  far  greater  variety  than 
"  you  have. 

"  We  have  also  engine  houses,  where  are  prepared 
"  engines  and  instruments  for  all  sorts  of  motions. 
"  There  we  imitate  and  practise  to  make  swifter  mo- 

New  Atlantis. 

tions  than  any  you  have,  either  out  of  your  muskets, 
or  any  engine  that  you  have;  and  to  make  them, 
and  multiply  them  more  easily,  and  with  small 
force,  by  wheels  and  other  means:  and  to  make 
them  stronger,  and  more  violent  than  yours  are ; 
exceeding  your  greatest  cannons  and  basilisks. 
We  represent  also  ordnance  and  instruments  of 
war,  and  engines  of  all  kinds  :  and  likewise  new 
mixtures  and  compositions  of  gun-powder,  wild- 
fires burning  in  water,  and  unquenchable.  Also 
fire-works  of  all  variety  both  for  pleasure  and  use. 
We  imitate  also  flights  of  birds ;  we  have  some 
degrees  of  flying  in  the  air ;  we  have  ships  and 
boats  forgoing  under  water,  and  brooking  of  seas; 
also  swimming-girdles  and  supporters.  We  have 
divers  curious  clocks,  and  other  like  motions  of 
return,  and  some  perpetual  motions.  We  imitate 
also  motions  of  living  creatures,  by  images  of  men, 
beasts,  birds,  fishes,  and  serpents  ;  we  have  also 
a  great  number  of  other  various  motions,  strange 
for  equality,  fineness,  and  subtilty. 
"  We  have  also  a  mathematical  house,  where  are 
represented  all  inbtruments,  as  well  of  geometry,  as 
astronomy,  exquisitely  made. 

<c  We  have  also  houses  of  deceits  of  the  senses; 
where  we  represent  all  manner  of  feats  of  juggling, 
false  apparitions,  impostures,  and  illusions  ;  and 
their  fallacies.  And  surely  you  will  easily  believe, 
that  we  that  have  so  many  things  truly  natural, 
which  induce  admiration,  could  in  a  world  of  par- 
ticulars deceive  the  senses,  if  we  would  disguise 
those  things,  and  labour  to  make  them  seem  more 
miraculous.  But  we  do  hate  all  impostures  and 
lies :  insomuch  as  we  have  severely  forbidden  it  to 
all  our  fellows,  under  pain  of  ignominy  and  fines, 
that  they  do  not  shew  any  natural  work  or  thing, 
adorned  or  swelling ;  but  only  pure  as  it  is,  and 
without  all  affectation  of  strangeness. 
"  These  are,  my  son,  the  riches  of  Solomon's  House. 

"  FOR  the  several  employments  and  offices  of  our 
fellows;    we  have  twelve    that  sail   into  foreign 

120  New  Atlantis. 

€€  countries,  under  the  names  of  other  nations,  for  our 
'*  own  we  conceal,  who  bring  us  the  books,  and  ab^ 
^  stracts,  and  patterns  of  experiments  of  all  other 
fc  parts.  These  we  call  merchants  of  light. 

"  We  have  three  that  collect  the  experiments  which 
"  are  in  all  books.  These  we  call  depredators. 

"  We  have  three  that  collect  the  experiments  of 
"  all  mechanical  arts;  and  also  of  liberal  sciences; 
"  and  also  of  practices  which  are  not  brought  into 
"  arts.  These  we  call  mystery-men. 

"  We  have  three  that  try  new  experiments,  such  as 
"  themselves  think  good.  These  we  call  pioneers  or 
"  miners. 

"  We  have  three  that  draw  the  experiments  of  the 
"  former  four  into  titles,  and  tables,  to  give  the  better 
"  light  for  the  drawing  of  observations  and  axioms 
"  out  of  them.  These  we  call  compilers. 

"  We  have  three  that  bend  themselves,  looking 
*'  into  the  experiments  of  their  fellows,  and  cast 
"  about  how  to  draw  out  of  them  things  of  use  and 
"  practice  for  man's  life  and  knowledge,  as  well  for 
<c  works,  as  for  plain  demonstration  of  causes,  means 
"  of  natural  divinations,  and  the  easy  and  clear  dis-r 
"  covery  of  the  virtues  and  parts  of  bodies.  These 
"  we  call  dowry-men  or  benefactors. 

"  Then  after  divers  meetings  and  consults  of  our 
"  whole  number,  to  consider  of  the  former  labours 
*'  and  collections,  we  have  three  that  take  care,  out 
"  of  them,  to  direct  new  experiments,  of  a  higher 
"  light,  more  penetrating  into  nature  than  the  former. 
"  These  we  call  lamps. 

"  We  have  three  others  that  do  execute  the  experi- 
"  ments  so  directed,  and  report  them.  These  we 
"  call  inoculators. 

"  Lastly,  we  have  three  that  raise  the  former  dis- 
"  coveries  by  experiments  into  greater  observations, 
"  axioms,  and  aphorisms.  These  we  call  interpreters 
f*  of  nature. 

"  We  have  also,  as  you  must  think,  novices  and  ap- 
*'  prentices,  that  the  succession  of  the  former  eirir 
?'  ployed  men  do  not  fail:  besides  a  great  number 

Netv  Atlantis.  121 

"  of  servants,  and  attendants,  men  and  women.  And 
"  this  we  do  also  :  we  have  consultations,  which  of 
."  the  inventions  and  experiences  which  we  have  dis- 
"  covered  shall  be  published,  and  which  not :  and 
"  take  all  an  oath  of  secresy,  for  the  concealing  of 
"  those  which  we  think  fit  to  keep  secret :  though 
"  some  of  those  we  do  reveal  sometimes  to  the  state, 
"  and  some  not. 

"  FOR  our  ordinances  and  rites :  we  have  two  very 
"  long  and  fair  galleries:  in  one  of  these  we  place 
fe  patterns  and  samples  of  all  manner  of  the  more  rare 
"  and  excellent  inventions  :  in  the  other  we  place  the 
"  statues  of  all  principal  inventors.  There  we  have 
"  the  statue  of  your  Columbus,  that  discovered  the 
"  West  Indies  :  also  the  inventor  of  ships  :  your  monk 
*'  that  was  the  inventor  of  ordnance,  and  of  gunpow- 
fs  der  :  the  inventor  of  music  :  the  inventor  of  letters  : 
"  the  inventor  of  printing :  the  inventor  of  observa- 
<c  tions  of  astronomy :  the  inventor  of  works  in  metal : 
"  the  inventor  of  glass  :  the  inventor  of  silk  of  the 
(i  worm  :  the  inventor  of  wine  :  the  inventor  of  corn 
*'  and  bread :  the  inventor  of  sugars  :  and  all  these  by 
c  more  certain  tradition  than  you  have.  Then  have 
"  we  divers  inventors  of  our  own  of  excellent  works ; 
<e  which  since  you  have  not  seen,  it  were  too  long  to 
"  make  descriptions  of  them  ;  and  besides,  in  the 
c  right  understanding  of  those  descriptions,  you 
"  might  easily  err.  For  upon  every  invention  of  va- 
"  lue  we  erect  a  statue  to  the  inventor,  and  give  him 
"  a  liberal  and  honourable  reward.  These  statues 
<c  are,  some  of  brass  ;  some  of  marble  and  touch- 
<c  stone  ;  some  of  cedar,  and  other  special  woods  giit 
cc  and  adorned  :  some  of  iron  ;  some  of  silver  ;  some 
"  of  gold. 

"  WE  have  certain  hymns  and  services  which  we 
c£  say  daily,  of  laud  and  thanks  to  God  for  his  mar- 
tf  vellous  works  :  and  forms  of  prayers,  imploring  his 
"  aid  and  blessing  for  the  illumination  of  our  labours ; 
u  and  the  turning  of  them  into  good  and  holy  uses. 

"  Lastly,  we  have  circuits  or  visits  of  divers  prin- 
?f  cipal  cities  of  the  kingdom  -,  where,  as  it  cometh 

122  New  Atlantis. 

"  to  pass,  we  do  publish  such  new  profitable  in- 
*f  ventions  as  we  think  good.  And  we  do  also  de- 
"  clare  natural  divinations  of  diseases,  plagues, 
"  swarms  of  hurtful  creatures,  scarcity,  tempests, 
"  earthquakes,  great  inundations,  comets,  tempera- 
"  ture  of  the  year,  and  divers  other  things  ;  and  we 
"  give  counsel  thereupon  what  the  people  shall  do  for 
"  the  prevention  and  remedy  of  them/' 

AND  when  he  had  said  this,  he  stood  up  ;  and  I,  as 
I  had  been  taught,  kneeled  down  ;  and  he  laid  his 
right  hand  upon  my  head,  and  said  ;  (i  God  bless 
*'  thee,  my  son,  and  God  bless  this  relation  which  I 
"  have  made.  I  give  thee  leave  to  publish  it  for  the 
"  good  of  other  nations  ;  for  we  here  are  in  God's  bo- 
"  som,  a  land  unknown."  And  so  he  left  me ;  having 
assigned  a  value  of  about  two  thousand  ducats,  for  a 
bounty  to  me  and  my  fellows.  For  they  give  great 
largesses  where  they  come  upon  all  occasions. 

The  rest  was  not  perfected* 




SlLENCE  were  the  best  celebration  of  that,  which 
I  mean  to  commend  ;  for  who  would  not  use  silence, 
where  silence  is  not  made  ?  and  what  crier  can  make 
silence  in  such  a  noise  and  tumult  of  vain  and  popular 
opinions?     My  praise  shall  be  dedicated  to  the  mind 
itself.     The  mind  is  the  man,  and  the  knowledge  of 
the  mind.     A  man  is  but  what  he  knoweth.     The 
mind  itself  is  but  an  accident  to  knowledge  ;  for  know- 
ledge is  a  double  of  that  which  is.     The  truth  of  be- 
ing, and  the  truth  of  knowing,  is  all  one.     And  the 
pleasures  of  the  affections  greater  than  the  pleasures  of 
the  senses.     And  are  not  the  pleasures  of  the  intel- 
lect greater  than  the  pleasures  of  the  affections  ?     Is 
it  not  a  true  and  only  natural  pleasure,  whereof  there 
is  no  satiety  ?     Is   it   not  knowledge  that  doth  alone 
clear  the   mind  of  all  perturbations?      How  many 
things  are  there  which  we  imagine  not  ?     How  many 
things  do  we  esteem  and  value  otherwise  than  they 
are  ?      This  ill   proportioned  estimation,  these  vain 
imaginations,  these  be  the  clouds  of  error  that  turn 
into  the  storms  of  perturbation.     Is  there  any  such 
happiness  as  for  a  man's  mind  to  be  raised  above  the 
confusion  of  things;  where  he  may  have  the  prospect 
of  the  order  of  nature,  and  the  error  of  men?     Is  this 
but  a  vein  only  of  delight,  and  not  of  discovery  ?  of 
contentment,  and  not  of  benefit  ?     Shall  we  not  as 
well  discern  the  riches  of  nature's  warehouse,  as  the 
benefit  of  her  shop  ?     Is  truth  ever  barren  ?     Shall  he 
not  be  able  thereby  to  produce  worthy  effects,  and  to 
endow  the  life  of  man  with  infinite  commodities?   But 
shall  I  make  this  garland  to  be  put  upon  a  wrong  head  ? 
"Would  any  body  believe  me,  if  I  should  verify  this, 

In  Praise  of  Knowledge* 

upon  the  knowledge  that  is  now  in  use  ?   Are  we  the 
richer  by  one  pqor   invention,  by  reason  of  all   the 
learning  that  hath  been  these  many  hundred  years? 
The  industry  of  artificers  maketh  some  small  improve- 
ment of  things  invented  5  and  chance  sometimes  in  ex- 
perimenting, maketh  us  to  stumble  upon  somewhat 
which  is  new  :  but  all  the  disputation  of  the  learned 
never  brought  to  light  one  effect  of  nature  before  un- 
known.    When    things  are    known  and    found  out, 
then  they  can  descant  upon  them,  they  can  knit  them 
into  certain  causes,  they  can  reduce  them  to  their  prin- 
ciples.    If  any  instance  of  experience  stand  against 
them,  they  can  range  it  in  order  by  some  distinctions. 
But  all  this  is  but  a  web  of  the  wit,  it  can  work  no- 
thing.    I    do  not   doubt  but  that  common   notions 
which  we  call  reason,  and  the  knitting  of  them  toge- 
ther, which  we   call  logic,  are  the  art  of  reason  and 
studies.     But   they  rather  cast  obscurity,   than  gain 
Jight  to  the  contemplation  of  nature.     All  the  philo- 
sophy of  nature  which  is  now  received,  is   either  the 
philosophy  of  the  Grecians,  or  that  other  of  the  alche- 
mists.    That  of  the  Grecians  hath  the  foundations  in 
words,    in  ostentation,  in   confutation,    in  sects,    in 
schools,  in  disputations.     The  Grecians  were,  as  one 
of  themselves  saith,  you  Grecians^  ever  children.  They 
knew  little    antiquity  ;  they  knew,  except  fables,  not 
much  above   five    hundred  years   before  themselves. 
They  knew  but  a  small  portion  of  the  world.     That 
of  the  alchemists  hath  the  foundation  in  imposture,,  in 
auricular  traditions  and  obscurity.     It   was  catching 
hold  of  religion,  but  the  principle  of  it   is,  Populus 
vult  decipi.     So  that  I  know  no  great  difference   be- 
tween these  great  philosophers,  but  that  the  one  is  a 
loud  crying  folly,  and  the  other  is  a  whispering  folly. 
The  one  is  gathered  out  of  a  few  vulgar  observations, 
and  the  other  out  of  a  few  experiments  of  a  furnace. 
The  one  never  faileth  to  multiply  words,  and  the  other 
ever  faileth  to  multiply  gold.     Who  would  not  smile 
:it  Aristotle,  when  he  admireth  the   eternity  and  in- 
variableness  of  the  heavens,  as  there  were  not  the  like 
in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  ?     Those  be  the  confine* 

In  Praise  of  Knowledge.  125 

and  borders  of  these  two  kingdoms,  where  the  con* 
tinual  alteration  and  incursion  are.  The  superficies 
and  upper  parts  of  the  earth  are  full  of  varieties. 
The  superficies  and  lower  parts  of  the  heavens,  which 
we  call  the  middle  region  of  the  air,  is  full  of  va- 
riety. There  is  much  spirit  in  the  one  part,  that 
cannot  be  brought  into  mass.  There  is  much  massy 
body  in  the  other  place,  that  cannot  be  refined 
to  spirit.  The  common  air  is  as  the  waste  ground  be- 
tween the  borders.  Who  would  not  smile  at  the  astro- 
nomers, I  mean  not  these  few  carmen  which  drive  the 
earth  about,  but  the  ancient  astronomers,  which  feign 
the  moon  to  be  the  swiftest  of  the  planets  in  motion, 
and  the  rest  in  order,  the  higher  the  slower;  and  so 
are  compelled  to  imagine  a  double  motion :  whereas 
how  evident  is  it,  that  that  which  they  call  a  contrary 
motion,  is  but  an  abatement  of  motion  ?  The  fixed 
stars  overgo  Saturn,  and  so  in  them  and  the  rest,  all  is 
but  one  motion,  and  the  nearer  the  earth  the  slower. 
A  motion  also  whereof  air  and  water  do  participate, 
though  much  interrupted.  But  why  do  I  in  a  confe-* 
rence  of  pleasure  enter  into  these  great  matters,  in 
sort  that  pretending  to  know  much,  I  should  forget 
what  is  seasonable  ?  Pardon  me,  it  was  because  all 
things  may  be  endowed  and  adorned  with  speeches, 
but  knowledge  itself  is  more  beautiful  than  any  ap- 
parel of  words  that  can  be  put  upon  it.  And  let  not 
me  seem  arrogant  without  respect  to  these  great  re- 
puted authors.  Let  me  so  give  every  man  his  due, 
as  I  give  Time  his  due,  which  is  to  discover  truth. 
Many  of  these  men  had  greater  wits,  far  above  mine 
own,  and  so  are  many  in  the  universities  of  Europe 
at  this  day.  But  alas,  they  learn  nothing  there  but 
to  believe  :  first  to  believe  that  others  know  that 
which  they  know  not ;  and  after  themselves  know 
that  which  they  know  not.  But  indeed  facility  to 
believe,  impatience  to  doubt,  temerity  to  answer, 
glory  to  know,  doubt  to  contradict,  end  to  gain, 
§loth  to  search,  seeking  things  in  words,  resting  in 
part  of  nature ;  these,  and  the  like,  have  been  the 
things  which  have  forbidden  the  happy  match  be« 

126  In  Praise  of  Knowledge. 

tween  the  mind  of  man  and  the  nature  of  things ;  and 
in  place  thereof  have  married  it  to  vain  notions  and 
blind  experiments :  and  what  the  posterity  and  issue 
of  so  honourable  a  match  may  be,  it  is  not  hard  to  consi- 
der. ,  Printing,  a  gross  invention  ;  artillery,  a  thing 
that  lay  not  far  out  of  the  way ;  the  needle,  a  thing 
partly  known  before  :  what  a  change  have  these  three 
made  in  the  world  in  these  times ;  the  one  in  the  state 
of  learning,  the  other  in  the  state  ot  war,  the  third  in 
the  state  of  treasure,  commodities,  and  navigation  ? 
And  those,  I  say,  were  but  stumbled  upon  and 
lighted  upon  by  chance.  Therefore,  no  doubt,  the 
sovereignty  of  man  lieth  hid  in  knowledge;  wherein 
many  things  are  reserved,  which  kings  with  their 
treasure  cannot  buy,  nor  with  their  force  command ; 
their  spials  and  intelligencers  can  give  no  news  of 
them,  their  seamen  and  discoverers  cannot  sail  where 
they  grow:  now  we  govern  nature  in  opinions,  but 
we  are  thrall  unto  her  in  necessity  ;  but  if  we  would 
be  led  by  her  in  invention,  we  should  command  her 


OF    THE 



[None  of  the  Annotations  of  Stella  are  set  down  in  these  Fragments,] 

CHAP.   L 

Of  the  limits  and  end  of  knowledge. 

IN  the  divine  nature,  both  religion  and  philosophy- 
have  acknowledged  goodness  in  perfection,  science  or 
providence  comprehending  all  things,  and  absolute 
sovereignty  or  kingdom.  In  aspiring  to  the  throne 
of  power,  the  angels  transgressed  and  fell ;  in  pre- 
suming to  come  within  the  oracle  or  knowledge,  man 
transgressed  and  fell;  but  in  pursuit  towards  the 
similitude  of  God's  goodness  or  love,  which  is  one 
thing,  for  love  is  nothing  else  but  goodness  put  in 
motion  or  applied,  neither  man  or  spirit  ever  have 
transgressed,  or  shall  transgress. 

The  angel  of  light  that  was,  when  he  presumed 
before  his  fall,  said  within  himself,  /  will  -ascend  and 
be  like  unto  the  Highest;  not  God,  but  the  Highest. 
To  be  like  to  God  in  goodness,  was  no  part  of  his 
emulation  :  knowledge,  being  in  creation  an  angel 
of  light,  was  not  the  want  which  did  ^most  solicit 
him  ;  only  because  he  was  a  minister  he  aimed  at  a 
supremacy  ;  therefore  his  climbing  or  ascension  was 
turned  into  a  throwing  down  or  precipitation. 

Man  on  the  other  side,  when  he  was  tempted  be- 
fore he  fell,  had  offered  unto  him  this  suggestion, 
that  he  should  be  like. unto  God.  But  how?-,  not  simply, 

128  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

but  in  this  part,  knowing  good  and  evil.  For  being  iri 
his  creation  invested  with  sovereignty  of  all  inferior 
creatures,  he  was  not  needy  of  power  or  dominion. 
Bat  again,  being  a  spirit  newly  inclosed  in  a  body  of 
earth,  he  was  fittest  to  be  allured  with  appetite  of 
light  and  liberty  of  knowledge.  Therefore  this  ap- 
proaching and  intruding  into  God's  secrets  and  mys- 
teries, was  rewarded  with  a  further  removing  and 
estranging  from  God's  presence.  But  as  to  the  good- 
ness of  God,  there  is  no  danger  in  contending  or  ad- 
vancing towards  a  similitude  thereof;  as  that  which 
is  open  and  propounded  to  our  imitation.  For  that 
voice,  whereof  the  heathen  and  all  other  errors  of  re- 
ligion have  ever  confessed  that  it  sounds  not  like  man, 
JLove  your  enemies ;  be  you  like  unto  your  heavenly  Fa- 
ther, that  suffereth  his  rain  to  fall  both  upon  the  just  and 
the  unjust,  doth  well  declare,  that  we  can  in  that 
point  commit  no  excess.  So  again  we  find  it  often 
repeated  in  the  old  law.  Be  you  holy  as  I  am  holy; 
and  what  is  holiness  else  but  goodness,  as  we  con- 
sider it  separate,  and  guarded  from  all  mixture,  and 
all  access  of  evil  ? 

Wherefore  seeing  that  knowledge  is  of  the  number 
of  those  things  which  are  to  be  accepted  of  with  cau- 
tion and  distinction ;  being  now  to  open  a  fountain 
such  as  it  is  not  easy  to  discern  where  the  issues  and 
streams  thereof  will  take  and  fall  ;  I  thought  it  good 
and  necessary  in  the  first  place,  to  make  a  strong  and 
sound  head  or  bank  to  rule  and  guide  the  course  of 
the  waters;  by  setting  down  this  position  or  firma- 
ment, namely,  That  all  knowledge  is  to  be  limited  by 
religion,  and  to  be  referred  to  use  and  action. 

For  if  any  man  shall  think,  by  view  and  inquiry  into 
these  sensible  and  material  things,  to  attain  to  any 
light  for  the  revealing  of  the  nature  or  will  of  God ;  he 
shall  dangerously  abuse  himself.  It  is  true,  that  the 
contemplation  of  the  creatures  of  God  hath  for  end,  as 
to  the  natures  of  the  creatures  themselves,  knowledge  ; 
but  as  to  the  nature  of  God,  no  knowledge,  but  won- 
der: which  is  nothing  else  but  contemplation  broken 
offj  or  losing  itself.  Nay  further,  as  it  was  aptly  said 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  129 

by  one  of  Plato's  school,  the  sense  of  man  resembles  the 
sim,  zv/u'ch  opcneth  and  rerealcth  the  terrestrial  globe, 
but  obscureth  and  conccalcth  the  celestial;  so  doth  the 
sense  discover  natural  things,  but  darken  and  shut 
up  divine.  And  this  appeareth  sufficiently  in  that 
there  is  no  proceeding  in  invention  of  knowledge, 
but  by  similitude ;  and  God  is  only  self-like,  having 
nothing  in  common  with  any  creature,  otherwise  than 
as  in  shadow  and  trope.  Therefore  attend  his  will  as 
himself  openeth  it,  and  give  unto  faith  that  which 
unto  faith  belongeth;  for  more  worthy  it  is  to  believe, 
than  to  think  or  know,  considering  that  in  know- 
ledge, as  we  now  are  capable  of  it,  the  mind  sufFereth 
from  inferior  natures ;  but  in  all  belief  it  suffereth 
from  a  spirit,  which  it  holdeth  superior,  and  more 
authorised  than  itself. 

To  conclude  ;  the  prejudice  hath  been  infinite,  that 
both  divine  and  human  knowledge  hath  received  by 
the  intermingling  and  tempering  of  the  one  with  the 
other;  as  that  which  hath  filled  the  one  full  of 
heresies,  and  the  other  full  of  speculative  fictions  and 

But  now  there  are  again,  which,  in  a  contrary  ex- 
tremity to  those  which  give  to  contemplation  an  over- 
large  scope,  do  offer  too  great  a  restraint  to  natural 
and  lawful  knowledge ;  being  unjustly  jealous  that 
every  reach  and  depth  of  knowledge  wherewith  their 
conceits  have  not  been  acquainted,  should  be  too  high 
an  elevation  of  man's  wit,  and  a  searching  and  revelling 
too  far  into  God's  secrets ;  an  opinion  that  ariseth 
either  of  envy,  which  is  proud  weakness,  and  to  be 
censured  and  not  confuted,  or  else  of  a  deceitful  sim- 
plicity. For  if  they  mean  that  the  ignorance  of  a 
second  cause  doth  make  men  more  devoutly  to  depend 
upon  the  providence  of  God,  as  supposing  the  effects 
to  come  immediately  from  his  hand ;  I  demand  of 
them,  as  Job  demanded  of  his  friends,  Will  you  life 
for  God,  as  man  zvill  for  man  to  gratify  him  ?  But  if 
any  man,  without  any  sinister  humour,  doth  indeed 
make  doubt  that  this  digging  further  and  further  into 
the  mine  of  natural  knowledge,  is  a  thing  without 

VOL.  II.  K 

1 3O  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

example,  and  uncommended  in  the  Scriptures,  or 
fruitless ;  let  him  remember  and  be  instructed :  for 
behold  it  was  not  that  pure  light  of  natural  know- 
ledge, whereby  man  in  paradise  was  able  to  give  unto 
every  living  creature  a  name  according  to  his  pro- 
priety, which  gave  occasion  to  the  fall;  but  it  was  an 
aspiring  desire  to  attain  to  that  part  of  moral  know- 
ledge, which  defineth  of  good  and  evil,  whereby  to 
dispute  God's  commandments,  and  not  to  depend 
upon  the  revelation  of  his  will,  which  was  the  ori- 
ginal temptation.  And  the  first  holy  records,  which 
within  those  brief  memorials  of  things  which  passed 
before  the  flood,  entered  few  things  as  worthy  to 
be  registered,  but  only  lineages  and  propagations,  yet 
nevertheless  honour  the  remembrance  of  the  inventor 
both  of  music  and  works  in  metal.  Moses  again, 
who  was  the  reporter,  is  said  to  have  been  seen  in  all 
the  Egyptian  learning,  which  nation  was  early  and 
leading  in  matter  of  knowledge.  And  Solomon  the 
king,  as  out  of  a  branch  of  his  wisdom  extraordinarily 
petitioned  and  granted  from  God,  is  said  to  have 
written  a  natural  history  of  all  that  is  green,  from 
the  cedar  to  the  moss,  which  is  but  a  rudiment  be- 
tween putrefaction  and  an  herb,  and  also  of  all  that 
liveth  and  moveth.  And  if  the  book  of  Job  be  turned 
over,  it  will  be  found  to  have  much  aspersion  of  na- 
tural philosophy.  Nay,  the  same  Solomon  the  king 
affirmeth  directly,  that  the  glory  of  God  is  to  conceal 
a  thing,  but  the  glory  of  the  king  is  to  find  it  out,  as 
if,  according  to  the  innocent  play  of  children,  the 
divine  Majesty  took  delight  to  hide  his  works,  to  the 
end  to  have  them  found  out ;  for  in  naming  the  king 
he  intendeth  man,  taking  such  a  condition  of  man  as 
hath  most  excellency  and  greatest  commandment  of 
wits  and  means,  alluding  also  to  his  own  person,  being 
truly  one  of  those  clearest  burning  lamps,  whereof 
himself  speaketh  in  another  place,  when  he  saith, 
The  spirit  of  man  is  as  the  lamp  of  God,  wherewith  he 
se'archeth  ail  inwardness  j  which  nature  of  the  soul  the 
same  Solomon  holding  precious  and  inestimable,  and 
therein  conspiring  with  the  affection  of  Socrates,  who 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  131 

scorned  the  pretended  learned  men  of  his  time  for 
raising  great  benefit  of  their  learning,  whereas  Anaxa- 
goras  contrariwise,  and  divers  others,  being  born  to 
ample  patrimonies,  decayed  them  in  contemplation, 
delivereth  it  in  precept  yet  remaining,  Buy  the  truth  and 
sell  it  not ;  and  so  of  wisdom  and  knowledge. 

And  lest  any  man  should  retain  a  scruple,  as  if  this 
thirst  of  knowledge  were  rather  an  humour  of  the 
mind,  than  an  emptiness  or  want  in  nature,  and  an 
instinct  from  God ;  the  same  author  defineth  of  it  fully, 
saying,  God  hath  made  every  thing  in  beauty  according 
to  season  ;  also  he  hath  set  the  world  in  mans  heart,  yet 
can  he  not  find  out  the  work  which  God  worketlifrom  the 
beginning  to  the  end :  declaring  not  obscurely  that  God 
hath  framed  the  mind  of  man  as  a  glass,  capable  of 
the  image  of  the  universal  world,  joying  to  receive  the 
signature  thereof,  as  the  eye  is  of  light;  yea,  not  only 
satisfied  in  beholding  the  variety  of  things,  and  vicis- 
situde of  times,  but  raised  also  to  find  out  and  discern 
those  ordinances  and  decrees,  which  throughout  all 
these  changes  are  infallibly  observed.  And  although 
the  highest  generality  of  motion,  or  summary  law  of 
nature,  God  should  still  reserve  within  his  own  cur- 
tain ;  yet  many  and  noble  are  the  inferior  and  secon- 
dary operations  which  are  within  man's  sounding. 
This  is  a  thing  which  I  cannot  tell  whether  I  may  so 
plainly  speak  as  truly  conceive,  that  as  all  knowledge 
appeareth  to  be  a  plant  of  God's  own  planting,  so  it 
may  seem  the  spreading  and  flourishing,  or  at  least  the 
bearing  and  fructifying  of  this  plant,  by  a  providence 
of  God,  nay,  not  only  by  a  general  providence,  but  by 
a  special  prophecy,  was  appointed  to  this  autumn  of 
the  world  :  for  to  my  understanding,  it  is  not  violent 
to  the  letter,  and  safe  now  after  the  event,  so  to  in- 
terpret that  place  in  the  prophecy  of  Daniel,  where, 
speaking  of  the  latter  times,  it  is  said,  Many  shall  pass 
to  and  fro,  and  science  shall  be  increased  ;  as  if  the  open- 
ing of  the  world  by  navigation  and  commerce,  and  the 
further  discovery  of  knowledge,  should  meet  in  one 
time  or  age. 

But  howsoever  that  be,  there  are  besides  the  autho- 

K  2 

132  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

rities  of  Scriptures  before  recited,  two  reasons  of  ex- 
ceeding great  weight  and  force,  why  religion  should 
dearly  protect  all  increase  of  natural  knowledge :  the 
one,  because  it  leadeth  to  the  greater  exaltation  of  the 
glory  of  God ;  for  as  the  Psalms  and  other  Scriptures 
do  often  invite  us  to  consider,  and  to  magnify  the  great 
and  wonderful  works  of  God ;  so  if  we  should  rest 
only  in  the  contemplation  of  those  shews  which  first 
offer  themselves  to  our  senses,  we  should  do  a  like  in- 
jury to  the  majesty  of  God,  as  if  we   should  judge  of 
the   store  of  some  excellent  jeweller,   by  that  only 
which  is  set  out  to  the  street  in  his  shop.     The  other 
reason  is,  because  it  is  a  singular  help  and  a  preserva- 
tive against  unbelief  and  error:  for,  saith  our  Saviour, 
Yon  err,  not  knowing  the  Scriptures,   nor  the  power  of 
God;  laying  before  us  two  books  or  volumes  to  study, 
if  we  will  be  secured  from  error;  first,  the  Scriptures 
revealing  the  will  of  God,  and  then  the  creatures  ex- 
pressing his  power  ;  for  that  latter   book  will  certify 
Us,   that  nothing  which  the    first  teacheth,   shall  be 
thought  impossible.     And  most  sure  it  is,  and  a  true 
conclusion  of  experience,  that  a  little  natural  philoso- 
phy inclineth  the  mind  to  atheism,  but  a  further  pro- 
ceeding bringeth  the  mind  back  to  religion. 

To  conclude  then  :  Let  no  man  presume  to  check 
the  liberality  of  God's  gifts,  who,  as  was  said,  hath  set 
the  ivorld  in  mans  heart.  So  as  whatsoever  is  not 
God,  but  parcel  of  the  world,  he  hath  fitted  it  to  the 
comprehension  of  man's  mind,  if  man  will  open  and 
dilate  the  powers  of  his  understanding  as  he  may. 

But  yet  evermore  it  must  be  remembered,  that  the 
least  part  of  knowledge  passed  to  man  by  this  so 
large  a  charter  from  God,  must  be  subject  to  that  use 
for  which  God  hath  granted  it,  which  is  the  benefit 
and  relief  of  the  state  and  society  of  man  ;  for  other- 
wise all  manner  of  knowledge  becometh  malign  and 
serpentine,  and  therefore,  as  carrying  the  quality  of  the 
serpent's  sting  and  malice,  it  maketh  the  mjnd  of 
man  to  swell;  as  the  Scripture  saith  excellently^ 
Ktiowledge  bloioeth  up,  but  charity  buitdeth  up.  And 
-  again,  the  same  author  doth  notably  disavow  both 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  133 

power  and  knowledge,  such  as  is  not  dedicated  to 
goodness  or  love ;  for  saith  he,  If  I  have  all  faith,  so  as 
I  co idd  remove  mountains ,  there  is  power  active  ;  if  I 
render  my  body  to  the  fire,  there  is  power  passive  ;  if  I 
speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  angels,  there  is  know- 
ledge, for  language  is  but  the  conveyance  of  know- 
ledge, all  were  nothing. 

And  therefore  it  is  not  the  pleasure  of  curiosity,  nor 
the  quiet  of  resolution,  nor  the  raising  of  the  spirit,  nor 
victory  of  wit,  nor  faculty  of  speech,  nor  lucre  of  pro- 
fession, nor  ambition  of  honour  or  fame,  or  inable- 
ment  for  business,  that  are  the  true  ends  of  know- 
ledge ;  some  of  these  being  more  worthy  than  other, 
though  all  inferior  and  degenerate :  but  it  is  a  restitu- 
tion and  reinvesting,  in  great  part,  of  man  to  the  so- 
vereignty and  power,  for  whensoever  he  shall  be  able 
to  call  the  creatures  by  their  true  names,  he  shall  again 
command  them,  which  he  had  in  his  first  state  of  crea- 
tion. And  to  speak  plainly  and  clearly,  it  is  a  disco- 
very of  all  operations  and  possibilities  of  operations 
from  immortality,  if  it  were  possible,  to  the  meanest 
mechanical  practice.  And  therefore  knowledge, 
that  tendeth  but  to  satisfaction,  is  but  as  a  courtesan, 
which  is  for  pleasure,  and  not  for  fruit  or  generation. 
And  knowledge  that  tendeth  to  profit  or  profession, 
or  glory,  is  but  as  the  golden  ball  thrown  before  Ata- 
lanta;  which  while  she  goeth  aside,  and  stoopeth  to 
take  up,  she  hindereth  the  race.  And  knowledge  re- 
ferred to  some  particular  point  of  use,  is  but  as  Har- 
modius,  which  putteth  down  one  tyrant :  and  not  like 
Hercules,  who  did  perambulate  the  world  to  suppress 
tyrants  and  giants  and  monsters  in  every  part. 

It  is  true,  that  in  two  points  the  curse  is  perempto- 
ry, and  not  to  be  removed  :  the  one,  that  vanity  must  be 
the  end  in  all  human  effects  ;  eternity  being  resumed, 
though  the  revolutions  and  periods  may  be  delayed. 
The  other,  that  the  consent  of  the  creature  being  now 
turned  into  reluctation,  this  power  cannot  otherwise 
be  exercised  and  administered  but  with  labour,  as  well 
in  inventing  as  in  executing;  yet  nevertheless  chiefly 
that  labour  and  travel  which  is  described  by  the 

134  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

sweat  of  the  brows,  more  than  of  the  body ;  that  is, 
such  travel  as  is  joined  with  the  working  and  discur- 
sion  of  the  spirits  in  the  brain:  for  as  Solomon  saith 
excellently,  The  fool  putteth  to  more  strength,  but  the 
wise  man  considereth  zv/iick  way  ;  signifying  the  elec- 
tion of  the  mean  to  be  more  material  than  the  multi- 
plication of  endeavour.  It  is  true  also  that  there  is  a 
limitation  rather  potential  than  actual,  which  is  when 
the  effect  is  possible,  but  the  time  or  place  yieldeth 
not  the  matter  or  basis  whereupon  man  should  work. 
But  notwithstanding  these  precincts  and  bounds,  let  it 
be  believed,  and  appeal  thereof  made  to  time,  with 
renunciation  nevertheless  to  all  the  vain  and  abusing 
promises  of  alchemists  and  magicians,  and  such  like 
light,  idle,  ignorant,  credulous,  and  fantastical  wits 
and  sects,  that  the  new-found  world  of  land  was  not 
greater  addition  to  the  ancient  continent,  than  there 
remaineth  at  this  day  a  world  of  inventions  and 
sciences  unknown,  having  respect  to  those  that  are 
known,  with  this  difference,  that  the  ancient  regions  of 
knowledge  will  seem  as  barbarous,  compared  with  the 
new ;  as  the  new  regions  of  people  seem  barbarous, 
compared  to  many  of  the  old. 

The  dignity  of  this  end,  of  endowment  of  man's 
life  with  new  commodities,  appeareth  by  the  estima- 
tion that  antiquity  made  of  such  as  guided  thereunto  ; 
for  whereas  founders  of  states,  lawgivers,  extirpirs  of 
tyrants,  fathers  of  the  people,  were  honoured  but  with 
the  titles  of  worthies  or  demi-gods,  inventors  were 
ever  consecrated  amongst  the  gods  themselves.  And  if 
the  ordinary  ambitions  ot  men  lead  them  to  seek  the  am- 
plification of  their  own  power  in  their  countries,  and 
a  better  ambition  than  that  hath  moved  men  to  seek 
the  amplification  of  the  power  of  their  own  countries 
amongst  other  nations;  better  again  and  more  worthy 
must  that  aspiring  be,  which  seeketh  the  amplification 
of  the  power  and  kingdom  of  mankind  over  the 
Xvorld  :  the  rather,  because  the  other  two  prosecutions 
are  ever  culpable  of  much  perturbation  and  injustice; 
but  this  is  a  work  truly  divine,  which  cometh  in  aura 

iy  without  noise  or  observation. 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  135 

The  access  also  to  this  work  hath  been  by  that  port 
or  passsage,  which  the  Divine  Majesty,  who  is  un- 
changeable in  his  ways,  doth  infallibly  continue  and 
observe ;  that  is,  the  felicity  wherewith  he  hath  bles- 
sed an  humility  of  mind,  such  as  rather  laboureth  to 
spell,  and  so  by  degrees  to  read  in  the  volumes  of  his 
creatures,  than  to  solicit  and  urge,  and  as  it  were  to 
invocate  a  man's  own  spirit  to  divine,  and  give  oracles 
unto  him.  For  as  in  the  inquiry  of  divine  truth,  the 
pride  of  man  hath  ever  inclined  to  leave  the  oracles  of 
God's  word,  and  to  vanish  in  the  mixture  of  their 
own  inventions;  so  in  the  self-same  manner,  in  inqui- 
sition of  nature,  they  have  ever  left  the  oracles  of 
God's  works,  and  adored  the  deceiving  and  deformed 
imagery,  which  the  unequal  mirrours  of  their  own 
minds  have  represented  unto  them.  Nay,  it  is  a  point 
fit  and  necessary  in  the  front,  and  beginning  of  this 
work,  without  hesitation  or  reservation  to  be  profes- 
sed, that  it  is  no  less  true  in  this  human  kingdom  of 
knowledge,  than  in  God's  kingdom  of  heaven,  that 
no  man  shall  enter  into  it,  except  he  become  first  as  a 
little  child. 

Of  the  impediments  of  knowledge. 
Being  the  IVth  chapter,  the  preface  only  of  it. 

IN  some  things  it  is  more  hard  to  attempt  than  to 
atchieve;  which  falleth  out,  when  the  difficulty  is  not 
so  much  in  the  matter  or  subject,  as  it  is  in  the  cross- 
ness and  indisposition  of  the  mind  of  man  to  think  of 
any  such  thing,  to  will  or  to  resolve  it ;  and  therefore 
Titus  Livius  in  his  declamatory  digression,  wherein 
he  doth  depress  and  extenuate  the  honour  of  Alexan- 
der's conquests,  saith  Nihil  aliud  quam  bene  aususvana 
contenmere  :  in  wrhich  sort  of  things  it  is  the  manner 
of  men  first  to  wonder  that  any  such  thing  should  be 
possible,  and  after  it  is  found  out,  to  wonder  again 
how  the  world  should  miss  it  so  long*  Of  this  nature 
I  take  to  be  the  invention  and  discovery  of  know- 
ledge, etc. 

136  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

The  impediments  zchich  have  been  in  the  times,  and  in 
diversion  of  wits. 

Being  the  Vth  chapter,  a  small  fragment  in  the  be- 
ginning of  that  chapter. 

THE  incounters  of  the  times  have  been  nothing 
favourable  and  prosperous  for  the  invention  of  know- 
ledge, so  as  it  is  not  only  the   daintiness  of  the  seed  to 
take,  and  the  ill  mixture  and  unliking  of  the  ground 
to  nourish  or  raise  this  plant,  but  the  ill  season  also 
of  the  weather,  by  which  it  hath  been  checked  and 
blasted.     Especially  in    that  the  seasons  have  been 
proper  to  bring  up  and  set  forward  other  more  hasty 
and   indifferent  plants,   whereby  this  of  knowledge 
hath  been  starved  and  over-grown ;  for  in  the  des- 
cent of  times  always  there  hath  been  somewhat  else  in 
reign  and  reputation,  which  hath  generally  alienated 
and  diverted  wits  and  labours  from  that  employment. 
For  as  for  the  uttermost  antiquity,   which  is  like 
fame  that  muffles  her  head,  and  tells  tales,  I  cannot 
presume  much  of  it;  for  I  would  not  willingly  imitate 
the  manner  of  those  that  describe  maps,  which  when 
they  come  to  some  far  countries,  whereof  they  have  no 
knowledge,  set  down  how  there  be  great  wastes  and 
desarts  there:    so  I  am   not  apt  to  affirm  that  they 
knew  little,  because  what  they  knew  is  little  known 
to  us.     But  if  you  will  judge  of  them  by  the    last 
traces  that  remain  to  us,  you  will  conclude,  though 
not  so  scornfully  as  Aristotle  doth,  that  saith  our  an- 
cestors were  extreme  gross,  as  those  that  came  newly 
from  being  moulded  out  of  the  clay,  or  some  earthly  sub- 
stance ;  yet  reasonably  and  probably  thus,  that  it  was 
with  them  in  matter  of  knowledge,  but  as  the  dawning 
or  break  of  day.     For  at  that  time  the  world  was  al- 
together home-bred,  every  nation  looked  little  beyond 
their  own  confines  or  territories,  and  the  world  had 
no  thorough  lights  then,  as  it  hath  had  since  by  com- 
merce and  navigation,  whereby  there  would  neither 
be  that  contribution  of  wits  one  to  help  another,  nor 
that  variety  of  particulars  for  the  correcting  the  cus- 
tomary conceits. 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

And  as  there  could  be  no  great  collection  of  wits  of 
several  parts  or  nations,  so  neither  could  there  be  any 
succession  of  wits  of  several  times,  whereby  one  might 
refine  the  other,  in  regard  they  had  not  history  to  any 
purpose.  And  the  manner  of  their  traditions  was 
utterly  unfit  and  unproper  for  amplification  of  know- 
ledge. And  again,  the  studies  of  those  times,  you 
shall  find,  besides  wars,  incursions,  and  rapines, 
which  were  then  almost  every  where  betwixt  states 
adjoining,  the  use  of  leagues  and  confederacies  being 
not  then  known,  were  to  populate  by  multitude  of 
wives  and  generation,  a  thing  at  this  day  in  the  waster 
part  of  the  West-Indies  principally  effected;  and  to 
build,  sometimes  for  habitation,  towns  and  cities ; 
sometimes  for  fame  and  memory,  monuments,  pyra- 
mids, colosses,  and  the  Jike.  And  if  there  happen 
to  rise  up  any  more  civil  wits ;  then  would  he  found 
and  erect  some  new  laws,  customs,  and  usages,  s\ich 
as  now  of  late  years,  when  the  world  was  revolute  al- 
most to  the  like  rudeness  and  obscurity,  we  see  both  in 
our  own  nation  and  abroad  many  examples  of,  as  well 
in  a  number  of  tenures  reserved  upon  men's  lands,  as 
in  divers  customs  of  towns  and  manors,  being  the  de- 
vises that  such  wits  wrought  upon  in  such  times  of 
deep  ignorance,  etc. 

The  impediments  of  knowledge  for  want  of  a  true  suc- 
cession of  zvif$,  and  that  hitherto  the  length  of  one 
man's  life  hath  been  the  greatest  measure  of  know- 

Being  the  Vlth  chapter,  the  whole  chapter. 

IN  arts  mechanical  the  first  devise  cometh  shortest, 
and  time  addeth  and  perfecteth.  But  in  sciences  of 
conceit,  the  first  author  goeth  furthest,  and  timeleeseth 
and  corrupteth.  Painting,  artillery,  saiJing,  and  the 
like  grossly  managed  at  first,  by  time  accommodate 
and  refined.  The  philosophies  and  sciences  of  Aris- 
totle, Plato,  Democritus,  Hippocrates,  of  most  vigour 
at  first,  by  time  degenerated  and  imbased.  In  the 
former,  many  wits  and  industries  contributed  in  one. 

1 3  8  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

In  the  latter  many  men's  wits  spent  to  deprave  the 
wit  of  one. 

The  error  is  both  in  the  deliverer  and  in  the  re- 
ceiver. He  that  delivereth  knowledge,  desireth  to 
deliver  it  in  such  form  as  may  be  soonest  believed, 
and  not  as  may  easiiiest  be  examined.  He  that  re- 
ceiveth  knowledge  desireth  rather  present  satisfaction 
than  expectant  search,  and  so  rather  not  to  doubt  than 
not  to  err.  Glory  maketh  the  author  not  to  lay  open  his 
weakness :  and  sloth  maketh  the  disciple  not  to  know 
his  strength. 

Then  begin  men  to  aspire  to  the  second  prizes,  to 
be  a  profound  interpreter  and  commenter,  to  be  a 
sharp  champion  and  defender,  to  be  a  methodical 
compounder  and  abridger.  .  And  this  is  the  unfortu- 
nate succession  of  wits  which  the  world  hath  yet  had, 
whereby  the  patrimony  of  all  knowledge  goeth  not 
on  husbanded  or  improved,  but  wasted  and  decayed. 
For  knowledge  is  like  a  water,  that  will  never  arise 
again  higher  that  the  level  from  which  it  fell.  And 
therefore  to  go  beyond  Aristotle  by  the  light  of  Aris- 
totle, is  to  think  that  a  borrowed  light  can  increase  the 
original  light  from  whom  it  is  taken.  So  then,  no 
true  succession  of  wits  having  been  in  the  world ; 
either  we  must  conclude,  that  knowledge  is  but  a  task 
for  one  man's  life,  and  then  vain  was  the  complaint, 
that  life  is  short,  and  art  is  long :  or  else,  that  the 
knowledge  that  now  is,  is  but  a  shrub;  and  not  that 
tree  which  is  never  dangerous,  but  where  it  is  to  the 
purpose  of  knowing  good  and  evil ;  which  desire  ever 
riseth  upon  an  appetite  to  elect,  and  not  to  obey,  and 
so  containeth  in  it  a  manifest  defection. 

That  the  pretended  succession  of  wits  hath  been  evil 
placed,  for  as  much  as  after  variety  of  sects  and  opi- 
nions, the  most  popular  and  not  the  truest  prevailetk 
and  wear eth  out  the  rest. 

Being  the  VII th  chapter,  a  fragment. 

IT  is  sensible  to  think,  that  when   men  enter  first 
into  search   and  inquiry,    according    to   the  several 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  139 

frames  and  compositions  of  their  understanding,  they 
light  upon  different  conceits,  and  so  all  opinions  and 
doubts  are  beaten  over  ;  and  then  men  having  made 
a  taste  of  all,  wax  weary  of  variety,  and  so  reject  the 
worst,  and  hold  themselves  to  the  best,  either  some 
one,  if  it  be  eminent;  or  some  two  or  three,  if  they 
be  in  some  equality ;  which  afterwards  are  received 
and  carried  on,  and  the  rest  extinct. 

But  truth  is  contrary;  and  that  time  is  like  a  river, 
which  c&meth  down  things  which  are  light  and  blown 
up,  and  sinketh  and  drowneth  that  which  is  sad  and 
weighty.  For  howsoever  governments  have  several 
forms,  sometimes  one  governing,  sometimes  few, 
sometimes  the  multitude;  yet  the  state  of  knowledge 
is  ever  a  democrity,  and  that  prevaileth  which  is  most 
agreeable  to  the  senses  and  conceits  of  people.  As  for 
example,  there  is  no  great  doubt,  but  he  that  did  put 
the  beginnings  of  things  to  be  solid,  void,  and  mo- 
tion to  the  centre,  was  in  better  earnest  than  he  that 
put  matte*,  form,  and  shift;  or  he  that  put  the  mind, 
motion,  and  matter.  For  no  man  shall  enter  into  in- 
quisition of  nature,  but  shall  pass  by  that  opinion  of 
Democritus  ;  whereas  he  shall  never  come  near  the 
other  two  opinions,  but  leave  them  aloof,  for  the 
schools  and  table-talk.  Yet  those  of  Aristotle  and 
Plato,  because  they  be  both  agreeable  to  popular 
sense,  and  the  one  was  uttered  with  subtilty  and  the 
spirit  of  contradiction,  and  the  other  with  a  stile  of 
ornament  and  majesty,  did  hold  out,  and  the  other 
gave  place,  etc. 

Of  the  Impediments  of  knowledge,  in  handling  it  by 
parfs,  and  in  slipping  off  particular  sciences  from  the 
root  and  stock  of  universal  knowledge. 

Being  the  Vlllth  chapter,  the  whole  chapter. 

CICERO  the  orator,  willing  to  magnify  his  own 
profession,  and  thereupon  spending  many  words  to 
maintain  that  eloquence  was  not  a  shop  of  good 
words  and  elegancies,  but  a  treasury  and  receipt  of 
all  knowledges,  so  far  forth  as  may  appertain  to  the 

H-0  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

handling  and  moving  of  the  minds  and  affections  of 
men  by  speech;  maketh  great  complaint  of  the  school 
or  Socrates;  that  whereas  before  his  time  the  same 
professors  of  v/isdom  in  Greece  did  pretend  to  teach 
an  universal  sapience  and  knowledge  both  of  matter 
and  words,  Socrates  divorced  them,  and  withdrew 
philosophy,  and  left  rhetoric  to  itself,  which  by  that 
destitution  became  but  a  barren  and  unnoble  science. 
And  in  particular  sciences  we  see,  that  if  men  fall  to 
subdivide  their  labours,  as  to  be  an  oculist  in  physic, 
or  to  be  perfect  in  some  one  title  of  the  law  or  the 
like,  they  may  prove  ready  and  subtile,  but  not  deep 
or  sufficient,  no,  not  in  that  subject  which  they  do 
particularly  attend,  because  of  that  consent  which  it 
hath  with  the  rest.  And  it  is  a  matter  of  common 
discourse,  of  the  chain  of  sciences,  how  they  are 
linked  together,  insomuch  as  the  Grecians,  who  had 
terms  at  will,  have  fitted  it  of  a  name  of  Circle- 
Learning.  Nevertheless  I  that  hold  it  for  a  great  impe* 
diment  towards  the  advancement  and  further  invention 
of  knowledge,  that  particular  arts  and  sciences  have 
been  disincorporated  from  general  knowledge,  do  not 
understand  one  and  the  same  thing,  which  Cicero's 
discourse  and  the  note  and  conceit  of  the  Grecians  in 
their  word  Circle-Learning  do  intend.  For  I  mean 
not  that  use  which  one  science  hath  of  another  for  or-« 
nament  or  help  in  practice,  as  the  orator  hath  of 
knowledge  of  affections  for  moving,  or  as  military 
science  may  have  use  of  geometry  for  fortifications  ;  but 
I  mean  it  directly  of  that  use  by  way  of  supply  of  light 
and  information,  which  the  particulars  and  instances 
of  one  science  do  yield  and  present  for  the  framing  or 
correcting  of  the  axioms  of  another  science  in  their 
very  truth  and  notion.  And  therefore  that  example 
of  oculists  and  title  lawyers  doth  come  nearer  my  con- 
ceit Than  "  the  other  t\vo ;  for  sciences  distinguished 
••have-a.dependence  upon  universal  knowledge  to  be 
augmented.and  rectified  by  the  superior  light  thereof, 
as*  well  as  the  parts  and  members  of  a  science  have 
upon-the  maxims  of  the  same  science,  and  the  mu- 
tual light  .and 'Consent  which  one  part  receivcth  pi;  an- 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  1 4-  i 

other.  And  therefore  the  opinion  of  Copernicus  in 
astronomy,  which  astronomy  itself  cannot  correct,  be- 
cause it  is  not  repugnant  to  any  of  the  appearances  ; 
yet  natural  philosophy  doth  correct.  On  the  other 
side,  if  some  of  the  ancient  philosophers  had  been 
perfect  in  the  observations  of  astronomy,  and  had 
called  them  to  counsel  when  they  made  their  princi- 
ples and  first  axioms,  they  would  never  have  divided 
their  philosophy,  as  the  cosmographers  do  their  de- 
scriptions by  globes,  making  one  philosophy  for 
heaven,  and  another  for  under  heaven,  as  in  effect 
they  do. 

So  if  the  moral  philosophers,  that  have  spent  such  an 
infinite  quantity  of  debate    touching    good  and   the 
highest  good,  had  cast  their  eye  abroad  upon  nature, 
and  beheld  the  appetite  that  is  in  all  things  to  receive 
and  to  give ;  the  one  motion  affecting  preservation, 
and  the  other   multiplication  ;    which   appetites  are 
most  evidently  seen  in  living  creatures,  in  the  plea- 
sure of  nourishment  and  generation  ;  and  in  man  do 
make  the  aptest  and  most    natural  division  of  all  his 
desires,  being  either  of  sense  of  pleasure,  or  sense  of 
power  ;  and  in  the  universal  frame  of  the  world  are 
figured,  the  one  in  the  beams  of  heaven  which  issue 
forth,  and  the  other  in  the  lap  of  the  earth  which  takes 
in  :  and  again,  if  they  had  observed  the  motion  of 
congruity,  or  situation  of  the  parts  in  respect  of  the 
whole,  evident  in  so  many  particulars :  and  lastly,  if 
•they  had  considered  the  motion,  familiar  in  attraction  of 
things,  to  approach  to  that  which  is  higher  in  the  same 
kind  :  when  by  these  observations,  so  easy  and  con- 
curring in  natural  philosophy,  they  should  have  found 
out  this  quaternion  of  good,  in  enjoying  or  fruition, 
effecting  or  operation,  consenting  or  proportion,  and 
approach  or  assumption  ;  they  would  have  saved  and 
abridged  much  of  their  long  and  wandering  discourses 
of  pleasure,  virtue,  duty,  and   religion.     So  likewise 
in  this  same  logic  and  rhetoric,  or  acts  of  argument 
and  grace  of  speech,  if  the  great  masters  of  them  would 
but  have  gone  a  form  lower,  and  looked  but  into  the 
observations   of  grammar  concerning   the  kinds   of 

1 42  Of  ihe  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

words,  their  derivations,  deflexions  and  syntax,  spe* 
cially  inriching  the  same  with  the  helps  of  several 
anguages,  with  their  differing  proprieties  of  words* 
phrases,  and  tropes ;  they  might  have  found  out  more 
and  better  footsteps  of  common  reason,  help  of  dispu- 
tation, and  advantages  of  cavillation,  than  many  of 
these  which  they  have  propounded.  So  again,  a  man 
should  be  thought  to  dally,  if  he  did  note  how  the 
figures  of  rhetoric  and  music  are  many  of  them  the 
same.  The  repetitions  and  traductions  in  speech,  and 
the  reports  and  hauntings  of  sounds  in  music,  are  the 
very  same  things.  Plutarch  hath  almost  made  a  book 
of  the  Lacedemonian  kind  of  jesting,  which  joined 
ever  pleasure  with  distaste.  tc  Sir,"  said  a  man  of 
art  to  Philip  king  of  Macedon,  when  he  controlled 
him  in  his  faculty,  "  God  forbid  your  fortune  should 
"  be  such  as  to  know  these  things  better  than  I." 
In  taxing  his  ignorance  in  his  art,  he  represented  to 
him  the  perpetual  greatness  of  his  fortune,  leaving  him 
no  vacant  time  for  so  mean  a  skill.  Now  in  music  it 
is  one  of  the  ordinariest  flowers  to  fall  from  a  discord, 
or  hard  tune,  upon  a  sweet  accord.  The  figure  that 
Cicero  and  the  rest  commend,  as  one  of  the  best  points 
of  elegancy,  which  is  the  fine  checking  of  expecta- 
tion, is  no  less  well  known  to  the  musicians,  when 
they  have  a  special  grace  in  flying  the  close  or  ca- 
dence. And  these  are  no  allusions  but  direct  com- 
munities, the  same  delights  of  the  mind  being  to  be 
found  not  only  in  music,  rhetoric,  but  in  moral  phi- 
losophy, policy,  and  other  knowledges,  and  that  ob- 
scure in  the  one,  which  is  more  apparent  in  the  other; 
yea,  and  that  discovered  in  the  one,  which  is  not 
found  at  all  in  the  other;  and  so  one  science  greatly 
aiding  to  the  invention  and  augmentation  of  an- 
other. And  therefore  without  this  intercourse,  the 
axioms  of  sciences  will  fall  out  to  be  neither  full  nor 
true;  but  will  be  such  opinions,  as  Aristotle  in  some 
places  doth  wisely  censure,  when  he  saith,  "  These 
"  are  the  opinions  of  persons  that  have  respect  but  to 
"  a  few  things."  So  then  we  see,  that  this  noteleadeth 
us  to  an  administration  of  knowledge  in  some  such 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  'Nature.  1 43 

order  and  policy,  as  the  king  of  Spain,  in  regard  of 
his  great  dominions,  useth  in  state :  who  though  he 
hath  particular  councils  for  several  countries  and  af- 
fairs, yet  hath  one  council  of  state,  or  last  resort,  that 
receiveth  the  advertisements  and  certificates  from  all 
the  rest.  Hitherto  of  the  diversion,  succession,  and 
conference  of  wits. 

That  the  end  and  scope  of  knowledge  hath  been  generally 
mistaken,  and  that  men  were  never  well  advised  what 
it  was  tltcy  sought. 

Being  the  IXth  chapter,  immediately  preceding  the 
Inventory,  and  inducing  the  same. 

IT  appeareth  then  how  rarely  the  wits  and  labours 
of  men  have  been  converted  to  the  severe  and  original 
inquisition  of  knowledge  ;  and  in  those  who  have 
pretended,  what  hurt  had  been  done  by  the  affectation 
of  professors,  and  the  distraction  of  such  as  were  no 
professors  ;  and  how  there  was  never  in  effect  any 
conjunction  or  combination  of  wits  in  the  first  and  in- 
ducing search,  but  that  every  man  wrought  apart,  and 
would  either  have  his  own  way,  or  else  would  go  no 
further  than  his  guide,  having  in  the  one  case  the  ho- 
nour of  a  first,  and  in  the  other  the  ease  of  a  second  ; 
and  lastly,  how  in  the  descent  and  continuance  of 
wits  and  labours,  the  succession  hath  been  in  the  most 
popular  and  weak  opinions,  like  unto  the  weakest  na- 
tures, which  many  times  have  most  children ;  and  in 
them  also  the  condition  of  succession  hath  been  rather 
to  defend  and  to  adorn,  than  to  add ;  and  if  to  add, 
yet  that  addition  to  be  rather  a  refining  of  apart,  than 
an  increase  of  the  whole.  But  the  impediments  of 
time  and  accidents,  though  they  have  wrought  a  ge- 
neral indisposition,  yet  are  they  not  so  peremptory  and 
binding,  as  the  internal  impediments  and  clouds  in 
the  mind  and  spirit  of  man,  whereof  it  now  folio  we  th 
to  speak. 

The  Scripture,  speaking  of  the  worst  sort  of  error, 
saith,  Err  are  fecit  eos  in  invio  et  non  in  via.  For  a  man 
may  "wander  in  the  way,  by  rounding  up  and  down  ; 

144  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

but  if  men  have  failed  in  their  very  direction  and  ad- 
dress, that  error  will  never  by  good  fortune  correct 
itself.  Now  it  hath  fared  with  men  in  their  contem- 
plations, as  Seneca  saith  it  fareth  with  them  in  their 
actions,  De  part  tints  vit<c  quisque  deliberate  de  summa 
nemo.  A  course  very  ordinary  with  men  who  receive 
for  the  most  part  their  final  ends  from  the  inclination 
of  their  nature,  or  from  common  example  and  opi- 
nion, never  questioning  or  examining  them,  nor  re- 
ducing them  to  any  clear  certainty  ;  and  use  only  to 
call  themselves  to  account  and  deliberation  touching 
the  means  and  second  ends,  and  thereby  set  them- 
selves in  the  right  way  to  the  wrong  place.  So  like- 
wise upon  the  natural  curiosity  and  desire  to  know, 
they  have  put  themselves  in  way  without  foresight  or 
consideration  of  their  journey's  end. 

For  I  rind  that  even  those  that  have  sought  know- 
ledge for  itself,  and  not  for  benefit,  or  ostentation,  or 
any  practical  inablement  in  the  course  of  their  life, 
have  nevertheless  propounded  to  themselves  a  wrong 
mark,  namely,  satisfaction,  which  men  call  truth,  and 
not  operation.  For  as  in  the  courts  and  services  of 
princes  and  states,  it  is  a  much  easier  matter  to  give 
satisfaction  than  to  do  the  business ,  so  in  the  inquir- 
ing of  causes  and  reasons  it  is  much  easier  to  find  out 
such  causes  as  will  satisfy  the  mind  of  man,  and  quiet 
objections,  than  such  causes  as  will  direct  him  and 
give  him  light  to  new  experiences  and  inventions. 
And  this  did  Celsus  note  wisely  and  truly,  how  that 
the  causes  which  are  in  use,  and  whereof  the  know- 
ledges now  received  do  consist,  were  in  time  minors 
and  subsequents  to  the  knowledge  of  the  particulars, 
out  of  which  they  were  induced  and  collected ;  and 
that  it  was  not  the  light  of  those  causes  which  disco- 
vered particulars,  but  only  the  particulars  being  first 
found,  men  did  fall  on  glossing  and  discoursing  of  the 
causes ;  which  is  the  reason,  why  the  learning  that 
now  is  hath  the  curse  of  barrenness,  and  is  courtesan- 
like,  for  pleasure,  and  not  for  fruit.  Nay,  to  compare  it 
rightly,  the  strange  fiction  of  the  poets  of  the  trans- 
formation of  Scylla,  seemcth  to  be  a  lively  emblem  of 

Of  the  In terpretation  of  Natu re.  145 

this  philosophy  and  knowledge  :  a  fair  woman  up- 
\vard  in  the  parts  of  show,  but  when  you  come  to  the 
parts  of  use  and  generation,  barking  monsters;  for  no 
better  are  the  endless  distorted  questions,  which  ever 
have  been,  and  of  necessity  must  be,  the  end  and 

womb  of  such  knowledge •. 

But  yet  nevertheless,  here  I  may  be  mistaken,  by 
reason  of  some  which  have  much  in  their  pen  the  re* 
ferring  sciences  to  action  and  the  use  of  man,  which 
mean  quite  another  matter  than  I  do.    For  they  mean 
a  contriving  of  directions,  and  precepts  for  readiness 
of  practice,  which  I  discommend  not,  so  it  be  not 
occasion   that  some  quantity  of  the  science  be  lost  ; 
for  else  it  will  be  such  a  piece  of  husbandry,  as  to  put 
away  a  manor  lying  somewhat  scattered,  to  buy  in  a 
close  that  lyeth  handsomely  about  a  dwelling.     But 
my  intention  contrariwise  is  to  increase  and  multiply 
the  revenues  and  possessions  of  man,  and  not  to  trim 
up  only,    or  order   with    conveniency   the   grounds 
whereof  he  is  already  stated.     Whereof  the  better  to 
make  myself  understood,  that  I  mean  nothing  else 
than    words,  and  directly  to  demonstrate  the   point 
which  we  are  now  upon,  that  is,  what  is  the  true  end, 
scope,  or  office  of  knowledge,  which  I  have  set  down 
to  consist  not  in  any  plausible,  delectable,  reverend, 
or  admired   discourse,  or  any  satisfactory  arguments, 
but  in  effecting  and  working,  and  in  discovery  of  par- 
ticulars not  revealed  before,  for  the  better  endowment 
and  help  of  man's  life  ;  I  have  thought  good  to  make, 
as  it  were  a  kalendar  or  inventory  of  the  wealth,  fur- 
niture, or  means  of  man,  according  to  his  present 
estate,  as  far  as  it  is  known ;  which  I  do  not  to  shew 
any  universality  of  sense   or  knowledge,  and  much 
less  to  make  a  satire  of  reprehension  in  respect  of 
wants  and  errors,  but  partly  because  cogitations  new1 
had  need  of  some  grossness,  and  inculcation  to  make 
them  perceived,  and  chiefly  to  the  end,  that  for  the? 
time  to  come,  upon  the  account  and  state  now  mad6 
and  cast  up,  it  may  appear  what  increase  this  new 
manner  of  use  and  administration  of  the  stock,  if  it 
be  once  planted,  shall  bring  with  it  hereafter;  and 

VOL.  II.  L 

146  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

for  the  time  present,  in  case  I  should  be  prevented 
by  death  to  propound  and  reveal  this  new  light  as  I 
purpose,  yet  I  may  at  the  least  give  some  awaking 
note,  both  of  the  wants  in  man's  present  condition, 
and  the  nature  of  the  supplies  to  be  wished  ;  though 
for  mine  own.  part  neither  do  I  much  build  upon  my 
present  anticipations,  neither  do  I  think  ourselves  yet 
learned  or  wise  enough  to  wish  reasonably :  for  as  it 
asks  some  knowledge  to  demand  a  question  not  im- 
pertinent;  so  it  asketh  some  sense,  to  make  a  wish 
not  absurd. 

The  Inventory,  or  an  enumeration  and  view,  of  Inven- 
tions already  discovered  in  use,  together  with  a  note 
of  the  wants,  and  the  nature  of  the  supplies. 

Being  the  Xth  chapter ;  and  this  a   small  fragment 
thereof,  being  the  preface  to  the  Inventory. 

THE  plainest  method,  and  most  directly  pertinent 
to  this  intention,  will  be  to  make  distribution  of  sci- 
ences,   arts,  inventions,  works,    and   their  portions, 
according  to  the  use  and  tribute  which  they  yield  and 
render  to  the  conditions  of  man's  life,  and  under  those 
several  uses,  being  as  several  offices  of  provisions,  to 
charge  and  tax  what  may  be  reasonably  exacted  or 
demanded,  not  guiding  ourselves  neither  by  the  po- 
verty of  experience  and  probations,  nor  according  to 
the  vanity  of  credulous  imaginations;  and  then  upon 
those  charges  and  taxations  to  distinguish  and  present, 
as  it  were  in  several  columns,  what  is  extant  and  al- 
ready found,  and  what  is  defective  and  further  to  be 
provided.     Of  which  provisions,  because  in  many  of 
them,  after  the  manner  of  slothful  and  faulty  officers 
and  accomptants,  it  will  be  returned,  by  way  of  ex- 
cuse, that  no  such  are  to  be  had,  it  will  be  fit  to  give 
some  light  of  the  nature  of  the  supplies,  whereby  it 
will  evidently  appear,  that  they  are  to  be  compassed 
and  procured.     And  yet  nevertheless  on  the   other 
side  again,  it  will  be  as  fit  to  check  and  controul  the 
vain  and  void  assignations  and  gifts,  whereby  certain 
ignorant,  extravagant,  and  abusing   wits  have  pre- 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  1 47 

tended  to  indue  the  state  of  man  with  wonders,  differ- 
ing as  much  from  truth  in  nature,  as  Csesar's  com- 
mentaries diffcreth  from  the  acts  of  King  Arthur,  or 
Huon  of  Bourdeaux,  in  story.  For  it  is  true  that  Cae- 
sar did  greater  things  than  those  idle  wits  had  the 
audacity  to  feign  their  supposed  worthies  to  have 
done  ;  but  he  did  them  not  in  that  monstrous  and  fa- 
bulous manner. 

The  chapter  immediately  following  the  Inventory. 
Being  the  Xlth  in  order,  a  part  thereof. 

IT  appeareth  then,  what  is  now  in  proposition,  not 
by  a  general  circumlocution,  but  by  particular  note, 
no  former  philosophy  varied  in  terms  or  method ;  no 
new  placet  or  speculation  upon  particulars  already 
known;  no  referring  to  action,  by  any  manual  of 
practice ;  but  the  revealing  and  discovering  of  new 
inventions  and  operations.  This  to  be  done  without 
the  errors  and  conjectures  of  art,  or  the  length  or  dif- 
ficulties of  experience ;  the  nature  and  kinds  of  which 
inventions  have  been  described  as  they  could  be  dis- 
covered ;  for  your  eye  cannot  pass  one  kenning  with- 
out further  sailing  :  only  we  have  stood  upon  the  best 
advantages  of  the  notions  received,  as  upon  a  mount, 
to  shew  the  knowledges  adjacent  and  confining.  If 
therefore  the  true  end  of  knowledge,  not  propounded, 
hath  bred  large  error,  the  best  and  perfectest  condi- 
tion of  the  same  end,  not  perceived,  will  cause  some 
declination.  For  when  the  butt  is  set  up,  men  need 
not  rove,  but  except  the  white  be  placed,  men  can- 
not level.  This  perfection  we  mean,  not  in  the  worth 
of  the  effects,  but  in  the  nature  of  the  direction,  for 
our  purpdse  is  not  to  stir  up  mens  hopes,  but  to  guide 
their  travels.  The  fulness  of  direction  to  work,  and 
produce  any  effect,  consisteth  in  two  conditions,  cer- 
tainty and  liberty.  Certainty  is,  when  the  direction 
is  not  only  true  for  the  most  part,  but  infallible.  Li- 
berty is,  when  the  direction  is  not  restrained  to  some 
definite  means,  but  comprehendeth  all  the  means  and 
ways-  possible  \  for  the  poet  saith  well,  Sapientibus 

L  2 

148  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

lindique  late  sunt  .vi<e  ;  and  where  there  is  the  greatest 
plurality  of  change,  there  is  the  greatest  singularity 
of  choice.  Besides,  as  a  conjectural  direction  maketh 
a  casual  effect,  so  a  particular  and  restrained  direction 
is  no  less  casual  than  uncertain.  For  those  parti- 
cular means  whereunto  it  is  tied,  may  be  out  of  your 
power,  or  may  be  accompanied  with  an  overvalue  of 
prejudice  ;  and  so  if  for  want  of  certainty  in  direc- 
tion, you  are  frustrated  in  success,  for  want  of  variety 
in  direction,  you  are  stopped  in  attempt.  If  therefore 
your  direction,  be  certain,  it  must  refer  you,  and  point 
you  to  somewhat,  which  if  it  be  present,  the  effect 
you  seek  will  of  necessity  follow,  else  may  you  per- 
'form  and  not  obtain.  If  it  be  free,  then  must  it  refer 
you  to  somewhat,  which  if  it  be  absent,  the  effect 
you  seek  will  of  necessity  withdraw,  else  may  you 
have  power  and  not  attempt.  This  notion  Aristotle 
had  in  light,  though  not  in  use.  For  the  two  com- 
mended rules  byNhim  set  down,  whereby  the  axioms 
of  sciences  are  precepted  to  be  made  convertible,  and 
which  the  latter  men  have  not  without  elegancy  sur- 
named,  the  one  the  rule  of  truth,  because  it  prevc.nt- 
eth  deceit;  the  other  the  rule  of  prudence,  because  it 
freeth  election;  are  the  same  thing  in  speculation  and 
affirmation,  which  we  now  observe.  An  example 
will  make  my  meaning  attained,  and  yet  percase  make 
it  thought  that  they  attained  it  not. 

Let  the  effect  to  be  produced  be  whiteness;  let  the 
first  direction  be,  that  if  air  and  water  be  intermin- 
gled, or  broken  in  small  portions  together,  whiteness 
will  ensue;  as  in  snow,  in  the  breaking  of  the  ways 
of  the  sea  and  rivers,  and  the  like.  This  direction  is 
certain,  but  very  particular;  and  restrained,  being  tied 
but  to  air  and  water.  Let  the  second  direction  be, 
that  if  air  be  mingled  as  before  with  any  transparent 
'body,  such  nevertheless  as  is  uncoloured  and  more 
grossly  transparent  than  air  itself,  that  then,  etc.  as 
glass  or  crystal,  being  beaten  to  fine  powder,  by  the 
interposition  of  the  air  becometh  white  ;  the  white  of 
an  egg,  being  clear  of  itself,  receiving  air  by  agita- 
tion, becometh  white,  receiving  air  by  concoction  be* 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  149 

cometh  white  ;  here  you  are  freed  from  water,  and 
advanced  to  a  clear  body,  and  still  tied  to  air.  Let 
the  third  direction  exclude  or  remove  the  restraint  of 
an  uncoloured  body,  as  in  amber,  sapphires,  eft. 
which  beateti  to  fine  powder,  become  white  in  wine 
and  beer;  which  brought  to  froth,  become  white. 
Let  the  fourth  direction  exclude  the  restraint  of  a  body 
more  grossly  transparent  than  air,  as  in  flame,  being 
a  body  compounded  between  air  and  a  finer  substance 
than  air ;  which  flame  if  it  were  not  for  the  smoke, 
which  is  the  third  substance  that  incorporateth  itself 
and  dieth,  the  flame  would  be  more  perfect  white. 
In  all  these  four  directions  air  still  beareth  a  part. 
Let  the  fifth  direction  then  be,  that  if  any  bodies, 
both  transparent,  but  in  an  unequal  degree,  be  min- 
gled as  before,  whiteness  will  follow  :  as  oil  and 
water  beaten  to  an  ointment,  though  by  settling,  the 
air  which  gathereth  in  the  agitation  be  evaporated, 
yet  remaineth  white;  and  the  powder  of  glass,  or 
crystal,  put  into  water,  whereby  the  air  giveth  place, 
yet  remaineth  white,  though  not  so  perfect.  Now 
are  you  freed  from  air,  but  still  you  are  tied  to  tran- 
sparent bodies.  To  ascend  further  by  scale  I  do  for- 
bear, partly  because  it  would  draw  on  the  example 
to  an  over-great  length,  but  chiefly  because  it  would 
open  that  which  in  this  work  I  determine  to  reserve  ; 
for  to  pass  through  the  whole  history  and  observation 
of  colours  and  objects  visible,  wrere  too  long  a  digres- 
sion ;  and  our  purpose  is  now  to  give  an  example  of 
a  free  direction,  thereby  to  distinguish  and  describe 
it ;  and  not  to  set  down  a  form  of  interpretation  how 
to  recover  and  attain  it.  But  as  we  intend  not  now 
to  reveal,  so  we  are  circumspect  not  to  mislead ;  and 
therefore,  this  warning  being  given,  returning  to  our 
purpose  in  hand,  we  admit  the  sixth  direction  to  be, 
that  .all  bodies,  or  parts  of  bodies,  which  are  unequal 
equally,  that  is,  in  a  simple  proportion,  do  represent 
whiteness  ;  we  will  explain  this,  .though  we  induce  it 
not.  It  is  then  to  be  understood,  that  absolute  equa- 
lity produceth  transparence,  in-equality  in  simple  order 
tfr  propcrtion  produceth.  whiten^ss,4nequality  in  com- 

150  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

pound  or  respective  order  or  proportion  producerh 
other  colours,  and  absolute  or  orderless  inequality 
produceth  blackness ;  which  diversity,  if  so  gross  a 
demonstration  be  needful,  may  be  signified  by  four 
tables ;  a  blank,  a  chequer,  a  fret,  and  a  medley  ; 
whereof  the  fret  is  evident  to  admit  great  variety. 
Out  of  this  assertion  are  satisfied  a  multitude  of  effects 
and  observations,  as  that  whiteness  and  blackness  are 
most  incompatible  with  transparence  ;  that  whiteness 
keepeth  light,  and  blackness  stoppeth  light,  but  nei- 
ther passeth  it ;  that  whiteness  or  blackness  are  never 
produced  in  rainbows,  diamonds,  crystals,  and  the 
like;  that  white  giveth  no  dye,  and  black  hardly  tak- 
eth  dye  ;  that  whiteness  seemeth  to  have  an  affinity 
with  dryness,  and  blackness  with  moisture;  that  adus- 
tion  causeth  blackness,  and  calcination  whiteness ; 
that  flowers  are  generally  of  fresh  colours,  and  rarely 
black,  etc.  all  which  I  do  now  mention  confusedly  by 
way  of  derivation,  and  not  by  way  of  induction. 
This  sixth  direction  which  I  have  thus  explained,  is 
of  good  and  competent  liberty,  for  whiteness  fixed 
and  inherent ;  but  not  for  whiteness  fantastical,  or 
appearing,  as  shall  be  afterwards  touched.  But  first 
do  you  need  a  reduction  back  to  certainty  or  verity  ; 
for  it  is  not  all  position  or  contexture  of  unequal  bo- 
dies that  will  produce  colours ;  for  aqua  fortis,  oil  of 
vitriol,  etc.  more  manifestly,  and  many  other  sub- 
stances more  obscurely,  do  consist  of  very  unequal 
parts,  which  yet  are  transparent  and  clear.  There- 
fore the  reduction  must  be,  that  the  bodies  or  parts  of 
boclies  so  intermingled  as  before,  be  of  a  certain  gross- 
ness  or  magnitude;  for  the  unequalities  which  move 
the  sight  must  have  a  further  dimension  and  quantity, 
than  those  which  operate  many  other  effects.  Some 
few  grains  of  saffron  will  give  a  tincture  to  a  tun  of 
water,  but  so  many  grains  ot  civet  will  give  a  perfume 
to  a  whole  chamber  of  air.  And  therefore  when  De- 
mocritus,  from  whom  Epicurus  did  borrow  it,  held 
that  the  position  of  the  solid  portions  was  the  cause  of 
colours;  yet  in  the  very  truth  of  this  assertion  he 
should  have  added,  that  the  portions  are  required  tq 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  151 

be  of  some  magnitude.  And  this  is  one  cause  why 
colours  have  little  inwardness,  and  necessitude  with 
the  nature  and  proprieties  of  things,  those  things  re- 
sembling in  colour,  which  otherwise  differ  most,  as 
salt  and  sugar ;  and  contrariwise  differing  in  colour, 
which  otherwise  resemble  most,  as  the  white  and  blue 
violets,  and  the  several  veins  of  one  agate  or  marble, 
by  reason  that  other  virtues  consist  in  more  subtile  pro- 
portions than  colours  do ;  and  yet  are  there  virtues  and 
natures  which  require  a  grosser  magnitude  than  co- 
lours, as  well  as  scents  and  divers  other  require  a 
more  subtile;  for  as  the  portion  of  a  body  will  give 
forth  scent,  which  is  too  small  to  be  seen,  so  the  por- 
tion of  a  body  will  shew  colours,  which  is  too  small  to 
be  endued  with  weight :  and  therefore  one  of  the  pro- 
phets with  great  elegancy  describing  how  all  creatures 
carry  no  proportion  towards  God  the  creator,  saith, 
that  all  the  nations  in  .  respect  of  him  are  like  the  dust 
upon  the  balance*,  which  is  a  thing  appeareth,  but 
weigheth  not.  But  to  return,  there  resteth  a  further 
freeing  of  this  sixth  direction ;  for  the  clearness  of  a 
river  or  stream  sheweth  white  at  a  distance,  and  crys- 
taline  glasses  deliver  the  face  or  any  other  object  falsi* 
fied  in  whiteness,  and  long  beholding  the  snow,  to  a 
weak  eye,  giveth  an  impression  of  azure,  rather  than 
of  whiteness.  -So  as  for  whiteness  in  apparition  only, 
and  representation,  by  the  qualifying  of  the  light,  al- 
tering the  intermedium,  or  affecting  the  eye  itself,  it 
reacheth  not.  But  you  must  free  your  direction  to 
the  producing  of  such  an  incidence,  impression,  or 
operation,  as  may  cause  a  precise  and  determinate 
passion  of  the  eye,  a  matter  which  is  much  more  easy 
to  induce  than  that  which  we  have  passed  through  ; 
but  yet  because  it  hath  a  full  coherence  both  with 
that  act  of  radiation,  which  hath  hitherto  been  con- 
ceived and  termed  so  unproperly  and  untruly,  by  some, 
an  effluxion  of  spiritual  species,  and  by  others,  an  in- 
vesting of  the  intermedium,  with  a  motion  which  suc- 
cessively is  conveyed  to  the  eye,  and  with  the  act  of 
sense,  wherein  I  should  likewise  open  that  which  I 
think  good  to  withdraw,  I  will  omit. 

152  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

Neither  do  I  contend,  but  that  this  notion,  which 
I  call  the  freeing  of  a  direction  in  the  received  philo- 
sophies, as  far  as  a  swimming  anticipation  could  take 
hold,  might  be  perceived  and  discerned  ;  being  not 
much  other  matter  than  that  which  they  did  not  only 
aim  at  the  two  rules  of  axioms  before  remembered,  but 
more  nearly  also  than  that  which  they  term  the  form 
or  rormal  cause,  or  that  which  they  call  the  true  dif- 
ference; both  which  nevertheless,  it  seemeth,  they 
propound  rather  as  impossibilities  and  wishes,  than 
as  things  within  the  compass  of  human  comprehen- 
sion :  for  Plato  casteth  his  burthen,  and  saith,  that  he 
Zvill  revere  him  as  a  God,  that  can  truly  divide  and  de- 
Jine;  which  cannot  be  but  by  true  forms  and  differ- 
ences, wherein  I  join  hands  with  him,  confessing  as 
much,  as  yet  assuming  to  myself  little  ;  for  if  any  man 
can,  by  the  strength  of  his  anticipations,  find  out 
forms,  I  will  magnify  him  with  the  foremost.  But  as 
any  of  them  would  say,  that  if  divers  things  which 
many  men  know  by  instruction  and  observation,  an- 
other knew  by  revelation,  and  without  those  meansj 
they  would  take  him  for  somewhat  supernatural  and 
divine  ;  so  I  do  acknowledge,  that  if  any  man  can  by 
anticipations  reach  to  that  which  a  weak  and  inferior 
wit  may  attain  to  by  interpretation,  he  cannot  receive 
too  high  a  title.  Nay,  I  for  my  part  do  indeed  admire 
to  see  how  far  some  of  them  have  proceeded  by  their 
anticipations ;  but  how  ?  it  is  as  I  wonder  at  some 
blind  men,  to  see  what  shift  they  make  without  their 
eye-sight;  thinking  with  myself  that  if  I  were  blind, 
1  could  hardly  do  it.  Again,  Aristotle's  school  con- 
fesseth,  that  there  is  no  true  knowledge  but  by  causes, 
no  true  cause  but  the  form,  no  true  form  known  ex- 
cept one,  which  they  are  pleased  to  allow  ;  and  there- 
fore thus  far  their  evidence  standeth  with  us,  that 
both  hitherto  there  hath  been  nothing  but  a  shadow 
of  knowledge,  and  that  wre  propound  now  that  which 
is  agreed  to  be  worthiest  to  besought,  and  hardest  to 
be  tound.  There  wanteth  now  a  part  very  necessary, 
not  by  way  of  supply,  but  by  way  of  caution  :  for 
as  it  is  seen  for  the  most  part,  that  the  outward  tokens 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

and  badge  of  excellency  and  perfection  are  more  in* 
cident  to  things  merely  counterfeit,  than  to  that  which 
is  true,  but  for  a  meaner  and  baser  sort;  as  adubline 
is  more  like  a  perfect  ruby  than  a  spinel,  and  a  coun- 
terfeit angel  is  made  more  like  a  true  angel,  than  if  it 
were  an  angel  coined  of  China  gold;  in  like  manner, 
the  direction  carrieth  a  resemblance  of  a  true  direction 
in  verity  and  liberty,  which  indeed  is  no  direction  at 
all.  For  though  your  direction  seem  to  be  certain 
and  free,  by  pointing  you  to  nature  that  is  unsepara- 
ble  from  the  nature  you  inquire  upon  ;  yet  if  it  do  not 
carry  you  on  a  degree  or  remove  nearer  to  action, 
operation,  or  light,  to  make  or  produce,  it  is  but  super- 
ficial and  counterfeit.  Wherefore  to  secure  and  war- 
rant what  is  a  true  direction,  though  that  general 
note  I  have  given  be  perspicuous  in  itself,  for  a  man 
shall  soon  cast  with  himself,  whether  he  beaver  the 
near  to  effect  and  operate  or  no,  or  whether  he  have 
won  but  an  abstract  or  varied  notion,  yet  for  better 
instruction  I  will  deliver  three  particular  notes  of 
caution.  The  first  is,  that  the  nature  discovered  be 
more  original  than  the  nature  supposed,  and  not  more 
secondary,  or  of  the  like  degree ;  as  to  make  a  stone 
bright,  or  to  make  it  smooth,  it  is  a  good  direction  to 
say,  make  it  even;  but  to  make  a  stone  even  it  is  no 
good  direction  to  say,  make  it  bright,  or  make  it 
smooth:  for  the  rule  is,  that  the  disposition  of  any 
thing  referring  to  the  state  of  it  in  itself,  or  the  parts, 
is  more  original  than  that  which  is  relative  or  transi- 
tive towards  another  thing.  So  evenness  is  the  dis- 
position of  the  stone  in  itself,  but  smooth  is  to  the 
hand,  and  bright  to  the  eye,  and  yet  nevertheless  they 
all  cluster  and  concur;  and  yet  the  direction  is  more 
imperfect,  if  it  do  appoint  you  to  such  a  relative,  as  is 
in  the  same  kind  and  not  in  a  diverse.  For  in  the  di- 
rection, to  produce  brightness  by  smoothness,  al- 
though properly  it  win  no  degree,  and  will  never 
teach  you  any  new  particulars  before  unknown,  yet 
by  way  of  suggestion,  or  bringing  to  mind,  it  may 
draw  your  consideration  to  some  particulars  known 
but  not  remembered ;  as  you  shall  sooner  remember- 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

some  practical  means  of  making  smoothness,  than  if 
you  had  fixed  your  consideration  only  upon  brightness; 
but  it  the  direction  had  been  to  make  brightness,  by 
making  reflexion,  as  thus,  make  it  such  as  you  may 
see  your  face  in  it ;  this  is  merely  secondary,  and  hclp- 
eth  neither  by  way  of  informing,  nor  by  way  of  sug- 
gesting. So  if  in  the  inquuy  of  whiteness  you  were 
directed  to  make  such  a  colour  as  should  be  seen  fur- 
thest in  a  dark  light ;  here  you  are  advanced  nothing 
at  all.  For  these  kinds  of  natures  are  but  properties, 
effects,  circumstances,  concurrences,  or  what  else  you 
shall  like  to  call  them,  and  not  radical  and  formative 
natures  towards  the  nature  supposed.  The  second 
caution  is,  that  the  nature  inquired  be  collected  by 
division  before  composition,  or  to-speak  more  pro- 
perly, by  composition  subaltern,  before  you  ascend  to 
composition  absolute,  etc. 

Of  the  internal  and  profound  errors  and  superstitions  in 
the  nature  of  the  mind,  and  of  i  he  four  sorts  of  idols 
erections  which  offer  themselves  to  the  understand- 
ing in  the  inquisition  of  knowledge. 

Being  the  XVIth  chapter,  and  this  a  small  fragment 
thereof,  being  a  preface  to  the  inward  clenches 
of  the  mind. 

THE  opinion  of  Epicurus,  that  the  gods  were  of 
human  shape,  was  rather  justly  derided  than  seriously 
confuted  by  the  other  sects,  demanding  whether  every 
kind  of  sensible  creatures  did  not  think  their  own 
figure  fairest,. as  the  horse,  the  bull,  and  the  like, 
which  found  no  beauty  but  in  their  own  forms,  as  in 
appetite  of  lust  appeared.  And  the  heresy  of  the 
Anthropomorphites  was  ever  censured  for  a  gross  con- 
ceit, bred  in  the  obscure  cells  of  solitary  monks  that 
never  looked  abroad.  Again,  the  fable  so  well  known 
of  Quis pinxit  leonem,  doth  set  forth  well,  that  there  is 
an  error  of  pride  and  partiality,  as  well  as  of  custom 
and  familiarity.  The  reflexion  also  from  glasses  so 
usually  resembled  to  the  imagery  of  the  mind,  every 
man  knoweth  to  receive  error  and  variety  both  in  co- 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  155 

lour,  magnitude,  and  shape,  according  to  the  quality 
of  the  glass.  But  yet  no  use  hath  been  made  of  these 
and  many  the  like  observations  to  move  men  to  search 
out,  and  upon  search  to  give  true  cautions  of  the  native 
and  inherent  errors  in  the  mind  of  man,  which  have 
coloured  and  corrupted  all  his  notions  and  impres-. 

I  do  find  therefore  in  this  enchanted  glass  four  idols, 
or  false  appearances  of  several  and  distinct  sorts,  every 
sort  comprehending  many  subdivisions:  the  firsj:  sort, 
I  call  idols  of  the  nation  or  tribe;  the  second," idols 
of  the  palace;  the  third,  idols  of  the  cave;  and  the 
fourth,  idols  of  the  theatre,  etc. 

Here  followeth  an  abridgment  of  divers  chapters  of  the 
first  book  of  the  INTERPRETATION  OF  NATURE. 


THAT  in  deciding  and  determining  of  the  truth 
of  knowledge,  men  have  put  themselves  upon  trials 
not  competent.  That  antiquity  and  authority,  com- 
mon and  confessed  notions,  the  natural  and  yielding 
consent  of  the  mind,  the  harmony  and  coherence  of  a 
knowledge  in  itself,  tfye  establishing  of  principles 
with  the  touch  and  reduction  of  other  propositions 
unto  them,  inductions  without  instances  contradictory, 
and  the  report  of  the  senses,  are  none  of  them  ab- 
solute and  infallible  evidences  of  truth;  and  bring  no 
security  sufficient  for  effects  and  operations.  That  the 
discovery  of  new  works  or  active  directions  not  known 
before,  is  the  only  trial  to  be  accepted  of;  and  yet  not 
that  neither,  in  case  where  one  particular  giveth  light 
to  another ;  but  where  particulars  induce  an  axiom  or 
observation,  which  axiom  found  out,  discovereth  and 
designeth  new  particulars.  That  the  nature  of  this 
trial  is  not  only  upon  the  point,  whether  the  know- 
ledge be  profitable  or  no,  but  even  upon  the  point, 
whether  the  knowledge  be  true  or  no.  Not  because, 
you  may  always  conclude,  that  the  axiom  which  dis- 
covereth new  instances  is  true  ;  but  contrariwise  you 
ipay  safely  conclude,  that  if  it  discover  not  any  new 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

instance,  it  is  vain  and  untrue.  That  by  new  instances 
are  not  always  to  be  understood  new  recipes,  but  new 
assignations;  and  of  the  diversity  between  these  two. 
That  the  subtilty  of  words,  arguments,  notions,  yea  of 
the  senses  themselves,  is  but  rude  and  gross  in  compa- 
rison of  the  subtilty  of  things.  And  of  the  slothful 
and  flattering  opinions  of  those  which  pretended  to 
honour  the  mind  of  man  in  withdrawing  and  ab- 
stracting it  from  particulars  ;  and  of  the  inducements 
and  motives  whereupon  such  opinions  have  been  con- 
ceived and  received. 


OF  the  error  in  propounding  chiefly  the  search  of 
causes  and  productions  of  things  concrete,  which  are 
infinite  and  transitory;  and  not  of  abstract  natures, 
which  are  few  and  permanent.  That  these  natures 
are  as  the  alphabet  or  simple  letters,  wherof  the  vari- 
ety of  things  consisteth  ;  or  as  the  colours  mingled  in 
the  painter's  shell,  wherewith  he  is  able  to  make  infi- 
nite variety  of  faces  or  shapes.  An  enumeration  of 
them  according  to  popular  note.  That  at  the  first  one 
would  conceive  that  in  the  schools  by  natural  philo- 
sophy were  meant  the  knowledge  of  the  efficients  of 
things  concrete;  and  by  metaphysic  the  knowledge  of 
the  forms  of  natures  simple ;  which  is  a  good  and  fit- 
division  of  knowledge  :  but  upon  examination  there 
is  no  such  matter  by.  them  intended.  That  the  little- 
inquiry  into  the  production  of  simple  natures,  sheweth- 
well  that  works  were  not  sought ;  because  by  the  for- 
mer knowledge  some  small  and  superficial  deflexions' 
from  the  ordinary  generations  and  productions  may  be 
found  out,  but  the  discovery  of  all  profound  and  radi- 
cal alteration  must  arise  out  of  the  latter  knowledge. 


OF  the  error  in  propounding  the  search  of  the 
materials,-"  or  dead  begiririings  or  principles  of  things, 
and  not  the  nature  of  motions,  inclinations,  and  ap- 
plications. That  the  whole  scope  of  the  former' 
search  is  impertinent  and  vain  3  both  -because  there 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  1 

are  no  such  beginnings,  and  if  there  were  they  could 
not  be  known.  That  the  latter  manner  of  search, 
which  is  all,  they  pass  over  compendiously  and 
slightly  as  a  bye  matter.  That  the  several  conceits 
in  that  kind  ;  as  that  the  lively  and  moving  beginnings 
of  things  should  be  shift  or  appetite  of  matter  to 
privation  ;  the  spirit  of  thxrworld,  working  in  matter 
according  to  platform  ;  the  proceeding  or  fructifying 
of  distinct  kinds  according  to  their  proprieties ;  the  in- 
tercourse of  the  elements  by  mediation  of  their  con> 
mon  qualities  ;  the  appetite  of  like  portions  to  unite, 
themselves ;  amity  and  discord,  or  sympathy  and  an* 
tipathy ;  motion  to  the  centre,  with  motion  of  stripe 
or  press;  the  casual  agitation,  aggregation,  and  essays 
of  the  solid  portions  in  the  void  space  ;  motion  of 
shuttings  and  openings  ;  are  all  mere  nugations.  And 
that  the  calculating  and  ordination  of  the  true  de- 
grees, moments,  limits  and  laws  of  motions  and  al- 
terations, by  means  whereof  all  works  and  effects  are 
produced,  is  a  matter  of  a  far  other  nature,  than  to 
consist  in  such  easy  and  wild  generalities. 

CHAP.   XV. 

OF  the  great  error  of  inquiring  knowledge  in  an- 
ticipations. That  I  call  anticipations,  the  voluntary- 
collections  that  the  mind  maketh  of  knowledge,  which 
is  every  man's  reason.  That  though  this  be  a  solemn 
thing,  and  serves  the  turn  to  negotiate  between  man. 
and  man,  because  of  the  conformity  and  participation 
of  men's  minds  in  the  like  errors,  yet  towards  inquiry 
of  the  truth  of  things  and  works  it  is  of  no  value. 
That  civil  respects  are  a  lett  that  this  pretended 
reason  should  not  be  so  contemptibly  spoken  of,  as 
were  fit  and  medicinable,  in  regard  that  hath  been 
too  much  exalted  and  glorified,  to  the  infinite  detri- 
ment of  man's  estate.  Of  the  nature  of  words,  and 
their  facility  and  aptness  to  cover  and  grace  the  de- 
fects of  anticipations.  That  it  is  no  marvel  if  these 
anticipations  have  brought  forth  such  diversity  and 
repugnance  in  opinions,  theories  or  philosophies,  as 
so  many  fable,  of  several  arguments  that  had  not  the 

1 58  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

nature  of  civil  customs  and  government  been  in  most 
times  somewhat  adverse  to  such  innovations,  though 
contemplative,  there  might  have  been,  and  would 
have  been  many  more.  That  the  second  school  of  the 
Academics  and  the  sect  of  Pyrrho,  or  the  considerers, 
that  denied  comprehension  as  to  the  disabling  of 
man's  knowledge,  entertained  in  anticipations,  is  well 
to  be  allowed  :  but  that  they  ought,  when  they  had 
overthrown  and  purged  the  floor  of  the  ruins,  to  have 
sought  to  build  better  in  place.  And  more  espe- 
cially that  they  did  unjustly  and  prejudicially,  to  charge 
the  deceit  upon  the  report  of  the  senses,  which  ad- 
mitteth  very  sparing  remedy;  being  indeed  to  have 
been  charged  upon  the  anticipations  of  the  mind, 
which  admitteth  a  perfect  remedy.  That  the  in- 
formation of  the  senses  is  sufficient,  not  because  they 
err  not,  but  because  the  use  of  the  sense  in  discover- 
ing of  knowledge  is  for  the  most  part  not  immediate. 
So  that  it  is  the  work,  effect,  or  instance,  that  trieth 
the  axiom,  and  the  sense  doth  but  try  the  work  done 
or  not  done,  being  or  not  being.  That  the  mind  of 
man  in  collecting  knowledge  needeth  great  variety  of 
helps,  as  well  as  the  hand  of  man  in  manual  and 
mechanical  practices  needeth  great  variety  of  instru- 
ments. And  that  it  were  a  poor  work,  that  if  instru- 
ments were  removed,  men  would  overcome  with 
their  naked  hands.  And  of  the  distinct  points  of 
want  and  insufficiency  in  the  mind  of  man. 


THAT  the  mind  of  a  man,  as  it  is  not  a  vessel  of 
that  content  or  receipt  to  comprehend  knowledge 
without  helps  and  supplies ;  so  again  it  is  not  sincere; 
but  of  an  ill  and  corrupt  tincture.  Of  the  inherent 
and  profound  errors  and  superstitions  in  the  nature 
of  the  mind,  and  of  the  four  sorts  of  idols  or  false 
appearances  that  offer  themselves  to  the  understanding 
in  the  inquisition  of  knowledge ;  that  is  to  say,  the 
idols  of  the  tribe,  the  idols  of  the  palace,  the  idols  of 
the  cave,  and  the  idols  of  the  theatre  :  That  these 
four,  added  to  the  incapacity  of  the  mind,  and  the 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  1 59 

vanity  and  malignity  of  the  affections,  leave  nothing 
but  impotency  and  confusion.  A  recital  of  the  par- 
ticular kinds  of  these  four  idolsj  with  some  chosen 
examples  of  the  opinions  they  have  begot,  such  of 
them  as  have  supplanted  the  state  of  knowledge 


OF  the  errors  of  such  as  have  descended  and  ap- 
plied themselves  to  experience,  and  attempted  to  in* 
duce  knowledge  upon  particulars.  That  they  have 
not  had  the  resolution  and  'strength  of  mind  to  free 
themselves  wholly  from  anticipations,  but  have  made 
a  confusion  and  intermixture  of  anticipations  and  ob- 
servations, and  so  vanished.  That  if  any  have  had 
the  strength  of  mind  generally  to  purge  away  and 
discharge  all  anticipations  ;  they  have  not  had  that 
greater  and  double  strength  and  patience  of  mind,  as 
well  to  repel  new  anticipations  after  the  view  and 
search  of  particulars,  as  to  reject  old  which  were  in 
their  mind  before ;  but  have  from  particulars  and 
history  flown  up  to  principles  without  the  mean  de- 
grees, and  so  framed  all  the  middle  generalities  or 
axioms,  not  by  way  of  scale  or  ascension  from  par- 
ticulars, but  by  way  of  derivation  from  principles, 
whence  hath  issued  the  infinite  chaos  of  shadows  and 
moths,  wherewith  both  books  and  minds  have  been 
hitherto,  and  may  be  yet  hereafter  much  more  pestered. 
That  in  the  course  of  those  derivations  to  make  them 
yet  the  more  unprofitable,  they  have  used,  when  any 
light  of  new  instance  opposite  to  any  assertion  ap- 
peared, rather  to  reconcile  the  instance,  than  to 
amend  the  rule.  That  if  any  have  had,  or  shall  have 
the  power  and  resolution  to  fortify  and  inclose  his 
mind  against  all  anticipations,  yet  if  he  have  not 
been  or  shall  not  be  cautioned  by  the  full  under- 
standing of  the  nature  of  the  mind  and  spirit  of  man, 
and  therein  of  the  states,  pores  and  passages  both  of 
knowledge  and  error,  he  hath  not  been  nor  shall  not 
be  possibly  able  to  guide  or  keep  on  his  course  aright. 
That  those  that  have  been  conversant  in  experience 
and  observation,  have  used,  when  they  have  intended 

160  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

to  discover  the  cause  of  any  effect,  to  fix  their  con- 
sideration narrowly  and  exactly  upon  that  effect  itself, 
with    all  the  circumstances  thereof,  and  to  vary  the 
trial  thereof  as  many  ways  as  can  be  devised  ;  which 
course  amounteth  but  to  a  tedious  curiosity,  and  ever 
breaketh  off  in  wondering,  and  not  in  knowing.  And 
that  they  have  not  used  to  enlarge  their  observation  to 
match  and  sort  that  effect  with  instances  of  a  diverse 
subject,  which  must  of  necessity  be  before  any  cause 
be  found  out.     That  they  have  passed  over  the  ob- 
servation of  instances  vulgar  and  ignoble,  and  stayed 
their    attention     chiefly    upon    instances   of    mark ; 
whereas  the  other  sort  are  for  the  most  part  more 
significant,  and  of  better  light  and  information.  That 
every  particular  that   worketh   any  effect,  is  a  thing 
compounded,  more  or  less,  of  diverse  single  natures, 
more   manifest  and    more  obscure,   and   that  it  ap- 
peareth  not  to  whether  of  the  natures  the  effect  is  to 
be  ascribed  ;  and  yet  notwithstanding  they  have  taken 
a  course  without  breaking  particulars,  and  reducing 
them  by  exclusions  and  inclusions  to  a  definite  point, 
to  conclude    upon   inductions   in   gross ;  which   em- 
pirical course  is  no  less  vain  than  the  scholasticaL 
That  all   such  as  have  sought  action  and  work  out 
of  their  inquiry,  have  been  hasty  and  pressing  to  dis- 
cover some    practices    for  present   use,  and    not  to 
discover  axioms,  joining  with  them  the  new  assigna- 
tions as  their  sureties.     That  the  forerunning  of  the 
mind  to  frame  recipes  upon  axioms  at  the  entrance,  is 
like  Atalanta's  golden  ball  that  hindereth    and  in- 
terrupteth  the  course ;  and  is  to  be  inhibited  till  you 
have  ascended  to  a  certain  stage  and  degree  of  ge- 
neralities;   which  forbearance  will  be  liberally  re- 
compensed in  the  end :  and  that  chance  discovereth 
new  inventions  by  one  and  one,  but  science  by  knots 
and  clusters.     That  they  have  not  collected  sufficient 
quantity   of  particulars,   nor  them   in  sufficient  cer- 
tainty and  subtilty,  nor  of  all  several  kinds,  nor  with 
those  advantages   and  discretions  in   the  entry  and 
sorting  which  are  requisite ;  and  of  the  weak  man- 
ner of  collecting   natural  history,  which  hath  been 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

used.  Lastly,  that  they  had  no  knowledge  of  the 
formulary  of  interpretation,  the  work  whereof  is  to 
abridge  experience,  and  to  make  things  as  certainly 
found  out  by  axiom  in  short  time,  as  by  infinite  ex- 
periences in  ages. 


THAT  the  cautels  and  devices  put  in  practice  in 
the  delivery  of  knowledge  for  the  covering  and  pal- 
liating of  ignorance,  and  the  gracing  and  over-valuing 
of  that  they  utter,  are  without  number  ;  but  none 
more  bold  and  more  hurtful  than  two:  the  one,  that 
men  have  used  of  a  few  observations  upon  any  sub- 
ject to  make  a  solemn  and  formal  art ;  by  filling  it  up 
with  discourse,  accommodating  it  with  some  circum- 
stances and  directions  to  practice,  and  digesting  it 
into  method,  whereby  men  grow  satisfied  and  secure, 
39  if  no  more  inquiry  were  to  be  made  of  that  matter; 
the  other,  that  men  have  used  to  discharge  ignorance 
with  credit,  in  defining  all  those  effects  which  they 
cannot  attain  unto,  to  be  out  of  the  compass  of  art 
and  human  endeavour.  That  the  very  styles  and 
forms  of  utterance  are  so  many  characters  of  im- 
posture, some  chusing  a  style  of  pugnacity  and  con- 
tention, some  of  satire  and  reprehension,  some  of 
plausible  and  tempting  similitudes  and  examples, 
some  of  great  words  and  high  discourse,  some  of 
short  and  dark  sentences,  some  of  exactness  of  me- 
thod, all  of  positive  affirmation  ;  without  disclosing 
the  true  motives  and  proofs  of  their  opinions,  or  free 
confessing  their  ignorance  or  doubts,  except  it  be 
now  and  then  for  a  grace,  and  in  cunning  to  win  the 
more  credit  in  the  rest,  and  not  in  good  faith.  That 
although  men  be  free  from  these  errors  and  incum- 
brances  in  the  will  and  affection,  yet  it  is  not  a  thing 
so  easy  as  is  conceived,  to  convey  the  conceit  of 
one  man's  mind  into  the  mind  of  another,  without 
loss  or  mistaking,  especially  in  notions  new  and  di& 
fering  from  those  that  are  received.  That  never  any 
knowledge  was  delivered  in  the  same  order  it  was  in- 
vented, no  not  in  the  mathematics,  though  it  should  § eem 

VOL.  n,  M 

162  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

otherwise,  in  regard  that  the  propositions  placed  last 
do  use  the  propositions  or  grants  placed  first  for  their 
proof  and  demonstration.  That  there  are  forms  and 
methods  of  tradition  wholly  distinct  and  differing,  ac- 
cording to  their  ends  whereto  they  are  directed.  That 
there  are  two  ends  of  tradition  of  knowledge,  the  one 
to  teach  and  instruct  for  use  and  practice,  the  other 
to  impart  or  intimate  for  re-examination  and  pro- 
gression. That  the  former  of  these  ends  requireth 
a  method  not  the  same,  whereby  it  was  invented  and 
induced,  but  such  as  is  most  compendious  and  ready, 
whereby  it  may  be  used  and  applied.  That  the  latter 
of  the  ends,  which  is  where  a  knowledge  is  delivered 
to  be  continued  and  spun  on  by  a  succession  of  la- 
bours, requireth  a  method  whereby  it  may  be  trans- 
posed to  another  in  the  same  manner  as  it  was  col- 
lected, to  the  end  it  may  be  discerned  both  where  the 
work  is  weak,  and  where  it  breaketh  off.  That  this 
latter  method  is  not  only  unfit  for  the  former  end,  but 
also  impossible  for  all  knowledge  gathered  and  in- 
sinuated by  anticipations,  because  the  mind  working 
inwardly  of  itself,  no  man  can  give  a  just  account 
how  he  came  to  that  knowledge  which  he  hath  re- 
ceived, and  that  therefore  this  method  is  peculiar  for 
knowledge  gathered  by  interpretation.  That  the  dis- 
cretion anciently  observed,  though  by  the  precedent 
of  many  vain  persons  and  deceivers  disgraced,  of  pub- 
lishing part  and  reserving  part  to  a  private  succession, 
and  of  publishing  in  a  manner  whereby  it  shall  not 
be  to  the  capacity  nor  taste  of  all,  but  shall  as  it 
were  single  and  adopt  his  reader,  is  not  to  be  laid 
aside,  both  for  the  avoiding  of  abuse  in  the  excluded, 
and  the  strengthening  of  affection  in  the  admitted. 
That  there  are  other  virtues  of  tradition,  as  that  there 
be  no  occasion  given  to  error,  and  that  it  carry  a 
vigour  to  root  and  spread  against  the  vanity  of  wits 
and  injuries  of  time  ;  all  which,  if  they  were  ever  due 
to  any  knowledge  delivered,  or  if  they  were  never  due 
to  any  human  knowledge  heretofore  delivered,  yet  are 
now  due  to  the  knowledge  propounded. 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  1 6  3 


OF  the  impediments  which  have  been  in  the  affec- 
tions, the  principle  whereof  hath  been  despair  or  dif- 
fidence, and  the  strong  apprehension  of  the  difficulty, 
obscurity,  and  infiniteness  which  belongeth  to  the  in- 
vention of  knowledge,  and  that  men  have  not  known 
their  own  strength ;  and  that  the  supposed  difficulties 
and  vastness  of  the  work  are  rather  in  shew  and  mus-> 
ter,  than  in  state  or  substance,  where  the  true  way  is 
taken.  That  this  diffidence  hath  moved  and  caused 
some  never  to  enter  into  search,  and  others,  when  they 
nave  been  entered,  either  to  give  over,  or  to  seek  a 
more  compendious  course  than  can  stand  with  the  na- 
ture of  true  search.  That  of  those  that  have  refused 
and  prejudged  inquiry,  the  more  sober  and  grave  sort 
of  wits  have  depended  upon  authors  and  traditions, 
and  the  more  vain  and  credulous  resorted  to  revelation 
and  intelligence  with  spirits  and  higher  natures.  That  of 
those  that  have  entered  into  search,  some  having  fallen 
upon  some  conceits,  which  they  after  consider  to  be  ' 
the  same  which  they  have  found  in  former  authors, 
have  suddenly  taken  a  persuasion  that  a  man  shall 
but,  with  much  labour,  incur  and  light  upon  the 
same  inventions  which  he  might  with  ease  receive 
from  others,  and  that  it  is  but  a  vanity  and  self-pleas- 
ing of  the  wit  to  go  about  again,  as  one  that  would 
rather  have  a  flower  of  his  own  gathering,  than  much 
better  gathered  to  his  hand.  That  the  same  humour 
of  sloth  and  diffidence  suggesteth,  that  a  man  shall  but 
revive  some  ancient  opinion,  which  was  long  ago 
propounded,  examined,  and  rejected.  And  that  it 
is  easy  to  err  in  conceit,  that  a  man's  observation  or 
notion  is  the  same  with  a  former  opinion,  both  because 
new  conceits  must  of  necessity  be  uttered  in  old 
words,  and  because  upon  true  and  erroneous  grounds 
men  may  meet  in  consequence  or  conclusion,  as  several 
lines  or  circles  that  cut  in  some  one  point.  That 
the  greatest  part  of  those  that  have  descended  into 
search  have  chosen  for  the  most  artificial  and  compen- 
dious course,  to  induce  principles  out  of  particulars^ 

M  2 

l  o  l  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

and  to  reduce  all  other  propositions  to  principles ;  and 
so,  instead  of  the  nearest  way,  have  been  led  to  no 
way,  or  a  mens  labyrinth.  That  the  two  contempla- 
tive ways  have  some  resemblance  with  the  old  para- 
ble of  the  two  moral  ways,  the  one  beginning  with 
uncertainty  and  difficulty,  and  ending  in  plainness  and 
certainty;  and  the  other  beginning  with  a  shew  of 
plainness  and  certainty,  and  ending  in  difficulty  and 
uncertainty.  Of  the  great  and  manifest  error  and  un- 
true conceit  or  estimation  of  the  infmiteness  of  parti- 
culars, whereas  indeed  all  prolixity  is  in  discourse  and 
derivations;  and  of  the  infinite  and  most  laborious 
expence  of  wit  that  hath  been  employed  upon  toys 
and  matters  of  no  fruit  or  value.  That  although  the 
period  of  one  age  cannot  advance  men  to  the  fur- 
thest point  of  interpretation  of  nature,  except  the 
\vork  should  be  undertaken  with  greater  helps  than 
can  be  expected,  yet  it  cannot  fail  in  much  less  space 
of  time  to  make  return  of  many  singular  commodi- 
ties towards  the  state  and  occasions  of  man's  life. 
That  there  is  less  reason  of  distrust  in  the  course  of  in- 
terpretation now  propounded,  than  in  any  knowledge 
formerly  delivered,  because  this  course  doth  in  sort 
equal  mens  wits,  and  leaveth  no  great  advantage  or 
pre-eminence  to  the  perfect  and  excellent  motions  of 
the  spirit.  That  to  draw  a  straight  line,  or  to  make  a 
circle  perfect  round  by  aim  of  hand  only,  there  must 
be  a  great  difference  between  an  unsteady  and  un- 
practised hand  and  a  steady  and  practised  ;  but  to  do 
it  by  rule  or  compass  it  is  much  alike. 


OF  the  impediments  which  have  been  in  the  two 
extreme  humours  of  admiration  of  antiquity  and  love 
of  novelty;  and  again,  of  over-servile  reverence,  or 
over-light  scorn  of  the  opinions  of  others. 


OF  the  impediments  which  have  been  in  the  affec- 
tion of  pride,  specially  of  one  kind,  which  is  the  dis- 
dain of  dwelling  and  being  conversant  much  in  expe- 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

riences  and  particulars,  especially  such  as  are  vulgar  in 
occurrency,  and  base  and  ignoble  in  use.  That  be- 
sides certain  higher  mysteries  of  pride,  generalities 
seem  to  have  a  dignity  and  solemnity,  in  that  they  do 
not  put  men  in  mind  of  their  familiar  actions,  in  that 
they  have  less  affinity  with  arts  mechanical  and  illibe- 
ral, in  that  they  are  not  so  subject  to  be  controled  by 
persons  of  mean  observation,  in  that  they  seem  to  teach 
men  what  they  know  not,  and  not  to  refer  them  to 
what  they  know.  All  which  conditions  directly  feed- 
ing the  humour  of  pride,  particulars  do  want.  That 
the  majesty  of  generalities,  and  the  divine  nature  of 
the  mind  in  taking  them,  if  they  be  truly  collected,  and 
be  indeed  the  direct  reflexions  of  things,  cannot  be  too 
much  magnified.  And  that  it  is  true,  that  interpretation 
is  the  very  natural  and  direct  intention,  action,  and 
progression  of  the  understanding,  delivered  from  im- 
pediments. And  that  all  anticipation  is  but  a  de- 
flexion or  declination  by  accident. 


OF  the  impediments  which  have  been  in  the  state 
of  heathen  religion,  and  other  superstitions  and  errors 
of  religion.  And  that  in  the  true  religion  there  hath 
not,  nor  is  any  impediment,  except  it  be  by  accident  or 
intermixture  of  humour.  That  a  religion  which  con- 
sisteth  in  rites  and  forms  of  adoration,  and  not  in  con- 
fessions and  beliefs,  is  adverse  to  knowledge ;  because 
men  having  liberty  to  inquire  and  discourse  of  theology 
at  pleasure,  it  cometh  to  pass  that  all  inquisition  of 
nature  endeth  and  limiteth  itself  in  such  metaphysical 
or  theological  discourse  ;  whereas  if  mens  wits  be  shut 
out  of  that  port,  it  turneth  them  again  to  discover, 
and  so  to  seek  reason  of  reason  more  deeply.  And 
that  such  was  the  religion  of  the  Heathen.  That  a 
religion  that  is  jealous  of  the  variety  of  learning,  dis- 
course, opinions,  and  sects,  as  misdoubting  it  may 
shake  the  foundations,  or  that  cherisheth  devotion 
upon  simplicity  and  ignorance,  as  ascribing  ordinary 
effects  to  the  immediate  working  of  God,  is  adverse 
to  knowledge.  That  such  is  the  religion  of  the  Turk, 

Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature. 

and  such  hath  been  the  abuse  of  Christian  religion 
at  some  several  times,  and  in  some  several  factions, 
And  of  the  singular  advantage  which  the  Christian  reli-* 
gion  hath  towards  the  furtherance  of  true  knowledge, 
in  that  it  excludeth  and  interdicteth  human  reason, 
whether  by  interpretation  or  anticipation,  from  exa^ 
mining  or  discussing  of  the  mysteries  arid  principles 
of  faith. 


OF  the  impediments  which  have  been  in  the  na- 
ture of  society,  and  the  policies  of  state.  That  there 
is  no  composition  of  estate  nor  society,  nor  order  or  qua- 
lity of  persons,  which  have  not  some  point  of  contra- 
riety towards  true  knowledge.  That  monarchies  in- 
cline wits  to  profit  and  pleasure,  and  commonwealths 
to  glory  and  vanity.  That  universities  incline  wits  to. 
sophistry  and  affectation ;  cloisters  to  fables  and  unpro- 
fitable subtilty  ;  study  at  large  to  variety  ;  and  that  it  is 
hard  to  say,  whether  mixture  of  contemplations  with 
an  active  life,  or  retiring  wholly  to  contemplations, 
do  disable  and  hinder  the  mind  more. 







1.  FRANCIS  BACON  thought  in  this  manner. 
The  knowledge  whereof  the  world  is  now  possessed, 
especially  that  of  nature,  extendeth  not  to  magnitude 
and  certainty  of  works.  The  physician  pronounceth 
many  diesases  incurable,  and  faileth  oft  in  the  rest.  The 
alchemists  wrax  old  and  die  in  hopes.  The  magicians 
perform  nothing  that  is  permanent  and  profitable. 
The  mechanics  take  small  light  from  natural  philoso- 
phy, and  do  but  spin  on  their  own  little  threads. 
Chance  sometimes  discovereth  inventions ;  but  that 
worketh  not  in  years,  but  ages.  So  he  saw  well,  "that 
the  inventions  known  are  very  imperfect,  and  that 
new  are  not  like  to  be  brought  to  light  but  in  great 
length  of  time ;  and  that  those  which  are,  came  not  to 
light  by  philosophy. 

2.  He  thought  also  this  state  of  knowledge  was  the 
worse,  because  men  strive  against  themselves  to  save 
the  credit  of  ignorance,  and  to  satisfy  themselves  in 
this  poverty.  For  the  physician,  besides  the  cauteles 
of  practice,  hath  this  general  cautele  of  art,  that  he 
dischargeth  the  weakness  of  his  art  upon  supposed 
impossibilities;  neither  can  his  art  be  condemned 
when  itself  judgeth.  That  philosophy  also,  out  of 
which  the  knowledge  of  physic  which  now  is  in  use 
is  hewed,  receiveth  certain  positions  and  opinions, 
which,  if  they  be  well  weighed,  induce  this  persua- 
sion, that  no  great  works  are  to  be  expected  from  art, 
and  the  hand  of  man ;  as,  in  particular,  that  opi- 
nion, that  the  heat  of  the  sun  and  fire  differ  in  kind  ; 
and  that  other,  that  composition  is  the  zwrk  of  man > 

16S  Filum  Labyrinthi. 

and  mixture  is  the  work  of  nature,  and  the  like ;  all 
tending  to  the  circumscription  of  man's  power,  and  to 
artificial  despair :  killing  in  men  not  only  the  com- 
fort of  imagination,,  but  the  industry  of  trial :  only 
upon  vain-glory,  to  have  their  art  thought  perfect,  and 
that  all  is  impossible  that  is  not  already  found.  The 
alchemist  dischargeth  his  art  upon  his  own  errors, 
either  supposing  a  misunderstanding  of  the  words  of 
his  authors,  which  maketh  him  listen  after  auricular 
traditions  ;  or  else  a  failing  in  the  true  proportions  and 
scruples  of  practice,  which  maketh  him  renew  infi- 
nitely his  trials  ;  and  finding  also  that  he  lighteth 
upon  some  mean  experiments  and  conclusions  by  the 
way,  feedeth  upon  them,  and  magnifieth  them  to  the 
most,  and  supplieth  the  rest  in  hopes.  The  magician, 
when  he  findeth  something,  as  he  conceivetb,  above 
nature,  effected,  thinketh,  when  a  breach  is  once 
made  in  nature,  that  it  is  all  one  to  perform  great 
things  and  small ;  not  seeing,  that  they  are  but  sub- 
jects of  a  certain  kind,  wherein  magic  and  superstition 
hath  played  in  all  times.  The  mechanical  person,  if 
he  can  refine  an  invention,  or  put  two  or  three  obser- 
vations or  practices  together  in  one,  or  couple  things 
better  with  their  use,  or  make  the  work  in  less  or 
greater  volume,  taketh  himself  for  an  inventor.  So 
he  saw  well,  that  men  either  persuade  themselves  of 
new  inventions  as  of  impossibilities  ;  or  else  think  they 
are  already  extant,  but  in  secret  and  in  few  hands ; 
or  that  they  account  of  those  little  industries  and  ad- 
ditions, as  of  inventions:  all  which  turneth  to  the 
averting  of  their  minds  from  any  just  and  constant  la- 
bour, to  invent  further  in  any  quantity. 

3.  Rethought  also,  when  men  did  set  before  them- 
selves the  variety  and  perfection  of  works  produced  by 
mechanical  arts,  they  are  apt  rather  to  admire  the  pro- 
visions of  man,  than  to  apprehend  his  wants;  not 
considering,  that  the  original  inventions  and  conclu- 
sions of  nature,  which  are  the  life  of  all  that  variety, 
are  not  many,  nor  deeply  fetched  ;  and  that  the  rest 
is  but  the  subtile  and  ruled  motion  of  the  instrument 
and  hand  5  and  that  the  shop  therein  is  not  unlike  the 

Filum  Ldbyrinthi. 

library,  which  in  such  number  of  books  containeth, 
for  the  far  greater  part,  nothing  but  iterations,  varied 
sometimes  in  form,  but  not  new  in  substance.  So  he 
saw  plainly,  that  opinion  of  store  was  a  cause  of  want; 
and  that  both  works  and  doctrines  appear  many,  and 
are  few. 

4.  He  thought  also,  that  knowledge  is  uttered  to 
men  in  a  form,  as  if  every  thing  were  finished  ;  for  it 
is  reduced  into  arts  and  methods ;  which  in  their  di- 
visions do  seem  to  include  all  that  may  be.     And  how 
weakly  soever  the  parts  are  filled,  yet  they  carry  the 
shew  and  reaso^i  of  a  total ;  and  thereby  the  writings 
of  some  received  authors  go  for  the  very  art:  whereas 
antiquity  used  to  deliver  the  knowledge  which  the 
mind  of  man  had  gathered,  in  observations,  aphorisms, 
or  short  and  dispersed  sentences,  or  small  tractates  of 
some  parts  that  they  had  diligently  meditated  and  la- 
boured ;  which  did  invite  men,  both  to  ponder  that 
which  .was  invented,  and  to  add  and  supply  further. 
But  now  sciences  are  delivered  to  be  believed  and 
accepted,  and  not  to  be  examined  and  further  disco- 
vered ;  and  the  succession  is  between  master  and  dis- 
ciple, and  not  between  inventor  and  continuer  or  ad- 
vancer; and  therefore    sciences  stand   at  a  stay,  and 
have  done  for  many  ages,  and  that  which  is  positive  is 
fixed,  and  that  which  is  question  is  kept  question,  so 
as  the  columns  of  no  further  proceeding  are -pitched. 
And  therefore  he  saw  plainly  men  had  cut  themselves 
off  from  further  invention  ;  and  that  it  is  no  marvel, 
that  is  not  obtained  which  hath  not  been  attempted, 
but  rather  shut  out  and  debarred. 

5.  He  thought  also  that  knowledge  is  almost  gene- 
rally sought  either  for  delight  and  satisfaction,  or  for 
gain  or  profession,  or  for  credit  and  ornament,  and  that 
every  of  these  are   as   Atalanta's  balls,  which  hinder 
the  race  of  invention.     For  men  are   so  far  in  these 
courses  from    seeking  to   increase  the  mass  of  know- 
ledge, as  of  that  mass  which  is  they  will  take  no  more 
than  will  serve  their  turn :  and  if  any  one  amongst  so 
many  seeketh  knowledge  for  itself,  yet  he  rather  seek- 
eth  to  know  the  variety  of  things,  than  to  discern  of 

17O  .,     Fihim  Lalyrinthi. 

the  truth  and  causes  of  them  ;  and  if  his  inquisition 
be  yet  more  severe,  yet  it  tendeth  rather  to  judgment 
than  to  invention ;  and  rather  to  discover  truth  in 
.controversy,  than  new  matter  ;  and  if  his  heart  be  so 
Jarge  as  he  propound eth  to  himself  further  discovery 
or  invention,  yet  it  is  rather  of  new  discourse  and  spe- 
culation of  causes,  than  of  effects  and  operations. 
And  as  for  those  that  have  so  much  in  their  mouths, 
action  and  use  and  practice,  and  the  referring  of 
sciences  thereunto;  they  mean  it  of  application  of  that 
which  is  known,  and  not  of  a  discovery  of  that  which 
is  unknown.  So  he  saw  plainly,  that  this  mark, 
namely,  invention  of  further  means  to  endow  the 
condition  and  life  of  man  with  new  powers  or 
works,  was  almost  never  yet  set  up  and  resolved  in 
man's  intention  and  inquiry. 

6.  He  thought  also  that,  amongst  other  know- 
ledges, natural  philosophy  hath  been  the  least  fol- 
lowed and  laboured.  For  since  the  Christian  faith, 
the  greatest  number  of  wits  have  been  employed,  and 
the  greatest  helps  and  rewards  have  been  converted 
upon  divinity.  And  before-time  likewise,  the  greatest 
part  of  the  studies  of  philosophers  was  consumed  in 
moral  philosophy,  which  was  as  the -heathen  divinity. 
And  in  both  times  a  great  part  of  the  best  wits  betook 
themselves  to  law,  pleadings,  and  causes  of  estate  ; 
specially  in  the  time  of  the  greatness  of  the  Romans, 
who  by  reason  of  their  large  empire  needed  the  ser- 
vice of  all  their  able  men  for  civil  business.  And  the 
-time  amongst  the  Grecians,  in  which  natural  philoso- 
phy seemed  most  to  flourish,  was  but  a  short  space  > 
and  that  also  rather  abused  in  differing  sects  and  con- 
flicts of  opinions  than  profitably  spent.  Since  which 
time,  natural  philosophy  was  never  any  profession, 
nor  ever  possessed  any  whole  man,  except  perchance 
some  monk  in  a  cloister,  or  some  gentleman  in  the 
country,  and  that  very  rarely  ;  but  became  a  science 
of  passage,  to  season  a  little  young  and  unripe  wits, 
and  to  serve  for  an  introduction  to  other  arts,  especi- 
ally physic  and  the  practical  mathematics.  So  as  he 
saw  plainly,  that  natural  philosophy  hath  been  in- 

Filum  Labyrinthi. 

tended  by  few  persons,  and  in  them  hath  occupied  the 
Jeast  part  of  their  time;  and  that  in  the  weakest  of 
their  age  and  judgment. 

7.  He  thought  also,  how  great  opposition  and  pre- 
judice natural  philosophy  had  received  by  superstition, 
and  the  immoderate  and  blind  zeal  of  religion  ;  for  he 
found  that  some  of  the  Grecians,  which  first  gave  the 
reason  of  thunder,  had  been  condemned  of  impiety  ; 
and  that  the  cosmographers,  which  first   discovered 
and  described  the  roundness  of  the  earth,  and  the  con- 
sequence thereof  touching  the  Antipodes,  were   not 
much  otherwise  censured  by  the  ancient  fathers  of  the 
Christian  church ;  and  that    the  case    is  now  much 
worse,  in  regard  of  the  boldness  of  the   schoolmen 
and  their  dependences  in  the  monasteries,  who  having 
made  divinity  into  an  art,  have  almost  incorporated 
the  contentious  philosophy  of  Aristotle  into  the  body 
of  Christian  religion  ;  and  generally  he  perceived  in 
men  of  devout  simplicity  this  opinion,  that  the  secrets 
of  nature  were  the  secrets  of  God ;  and  part  of  that 
glory  whereinto  the  mind  of  man,  if  it  seek  to  press, 
shall  be  oppressed  ;  and  that  the  desire  in  men  to  at- 
tain to  so  great  and  hidden  knowledge,  hath  a  resem- 
blance with  that  temptation  which  caused  the  original 
fall ;  and  on  the  other  side,  in  men  of  a  devout  policy, 
he  noted  an  inclination  to  have  the   people  depend 
upon  God   the   more,  when  they  are  less  acquainted 
with  second  causes  ;  and  to  have  no  stirring  in  philo- 
sophy, lest  it  may  lead  to  an  innovation  in  divinity, 
or  else  should  discover  matter  of  further  contradiction 
to  divinity.     But  in  this  part,  resorting  to  the  autho- 
rity of  the  Scriptures,  and  holy  examples,  and  to  rea- 
son, he  rested  not  satisfied  alone,  but  much  confirmed. 
For  first,  he  considered  that  the  knowledge  of  nature, 
by  the  light  whereof  man  discerned  of  every  living 
creature,  and  imposed  names  according  to  their  pro- 
priety, was  not  the  occasion  of  the  fall ;  but  the  moral 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  affected  to  the  end  to 
depend  no  more  upon  God's  commandments,  but  for 
man  to  direct  himself.     Neither  could  he  find  in  any 
jacripture,  that  the  inquiry  and  science  of  man  in  any  | 

H2  Filum  Labyrinth?. 

thing,  under  the  mysteries  of  the  Deity,  is  determined 
and  restrained,  but  contrariwise  allowed  and  pro- 
voked. For  concerning  all  other  knowledge  the  Scrip- 
ture pronounceth,  That  it  is  the  glory  of  God  to  con- 
ceal, but  it.  is  the  glory  of  man  (or  of  the  king,  for  the 
king  is  but  the  excellency  of  man)  to  invent;  and 
again,  The  spirit  of  man  is  as  the  lamp  of  God,  where- 
with he  searcheth  every  secret ;  and  again  most  effec- 
tually, That  God  hath  made  all  things  beautiful  and 
decent,  according  to  the  return  of  their  seasons ;  also 
that  he  hath  set  the  world  in  man  s  heart,  and  yet  man 
cannot  Jind  out  the  work  which  God  worheth  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end:  shewing  that  the  heart  of  man 
is  a  continent  of 'that  concave  or  capacity,  wherein 
the  content  of  the  world,  that  is,  all  forms  of  the 
creatures,  and  whatsoever  is  not  God,  may  be  placed, 
or  received  ;  and  complaining,  that  through  the  va- 
riety of  things,  and  vicissitudes  of  times,  which  are 
but  impediments  and  not  impuissances,  man  cannot 
accomplish  his  invention.  In  precedent  also  he  set 
before  his  eyes,  that  in  those  few  memorials  before  the 
flood,  the  Scripture  honoureth  the  name  of  the  in- 
ventors of  music  and  works  in  metal;  that  Moses  had 
this  addition  of  praise,  that  he  was  seen  in  all  the 
learning  of  the  Egyptians  ;  that  Solomon,  in  his  grant 
of  wisdom  from  God,  had  contained,  as  a  branch 
thereof,  that  knowledge  whereby  he  wrote  a  natural 
history  of  all  verdure,  from  the  cedar  to  the  moss, 
and  of  all  that  breatheth  ;  that  the  book  of  Job,  and 
many  places  of  the  prophets,  have  great  aspersion  of 
natural  philosophy  ;  that  the  church  in  the  bosom  and 
lap  thereof,  in  the  greatest  injuries  of  times,  ever  pre- 
served, as  holy  relicks,  the  books  of  philosophy  and 
all  heathen  learning;  and  that  when  Gregory,  the 
bishop  of  Rome,  became  adverse  and  unjust  to  the 
memory  of  heathen  antiquity,  it  was  censured  for 
pusillanimity  in  him  and  the  honour  thereof  soon  after 
restored,  and  his  own  memory  almost  persecuted  by 
his  successor  Sabinian  ;  arid  lastly,  in  our  times,  and 
the  ages  of  our  fathers,  when  Luther  and  the  divines 
of  the  Protestant  church  on  the  one  side,  and  the  Je- 

Filum  Labyrinthi. 

suits  on  the  other,  have  enterprised  to  reform,  the 
one  the  doctrine,  the  other  the  discipline  and  manners 
of  the  church  of  Rome,  he  saw  well  how  both  of  them 
have  awaked  to  their  great  honour  and  succour  all 
human  learning.  And  for  reason,  there  cannot  be  a 
greater  and  more  evident  than  this,  that  all  know- 
ledge, and  specially  that  of  natural  philosophy,  tend- 
eth  highly  to  the  magnifying  of  the  glory  of  God  in  his 
power,  providence,  and  benefits,  appearing  and  en- 
graven in  his  works,  which  without  this  knowledge 
are  beheld  but  as  through  a  veil :  for  if  the  heavens 
in  the  body  of  them  do  declare  the  glory  of  God  to  the 
eye,  much  more  do  they  in-  the  rule  and  decrees  of 
them  declare  it  to  the  understanding.  And  another 
reason,  not  inferior  to  this  is,  that  the  same  natural  phi- 
losophy principally  amongst  all  other  human  know- 
ledge, doth  give  an  excellent  defence  against  both  ey. 
tremes  of  religion,  superstition,  and  infidelity ;  for 
both  it  freeth  the  mind  from  a  number  of  weak  fan- 
cies and  imaginations,  and  it  raiseth  the  mind  to  ac- 
knowledge that  to  God  all  things  are  possible  :  for  to 
that  purpose  speaketh  our  Saviour  in  that  first  canon 
against  heresies,  delivered  upon  the  case  of  the  re- 
surrection, You  err,  not  knowing  the  Scriptures,  nor  the 
power  of  God  ;  teaching,  that  there  are  but  two  foun- 
tains of  heresy,  not  knowing  the  will  of  God  revealed 
in  the  Scriptures,  and  not  knowing  the  power  of  God 
revealed  or  at  least  made  most  sensible  in  his  crea- 
tures. So  as  he  saw  well,  that  natural  philosophy 
was  of  excellent  use  to  the  exaltation  of  the  Divine 
Majesty  ;  and,  that  which  is  admirable,  that  being  a 
remedy  of  superstition,  it  is  nevertheless  an  help^to 
faith.  He  saw  likewise,  that  the  former  opinions  to 
the  prejudice  hereof  had  no  true  ground  ;  but  must 
spring  either  out  of  mere  ignorance,  or  out  of  an  ex- 
cess of  devotion,  to  have  divinity  all  in  all,  whereas 
it  should  be  only  above  all ;  both  which  states  of 
mind  may  be  best  pardoned  ;  or  else  out  of  worse 
causes,  namely  out  of  envy,  which  is  proud  weak- 
ness, and  deserveth  to  be  despised  ;  or  out  of  some 
mixture  of  imposture,  to  tell  a  lie  for  God's  cause  $ 

Ft  him  Labyrinth*. 

or  out  of  an  impious  diffidence,  as  if  men  should  fear 
to  discover  some  things  in  nature  which  might  subvert 
faith.  But  still  he  saw  well,  howsoever  these  opinions 
are  in  right  reason  reproved,  yet  they  leave  not  to  be 
most  effectual  hindrances  to  natural  philosophy  and 

8.  He  thought  also,  that  there  wanted  not  great 
contrariety  to  the  further  discovery  of  sciences  in 
regard  of  the  orders  and  customs  of  universities,  and 
also  in  regard  of  common  opinion.  For  in  universi- 
ties and  colleges  mens  studies  are  almost  confined  to 
certain  authors,  from  which  if  any  dissenteth  or  pro* 
poundeth  matter  of  redargution,  it  is  enough  to  make 
him  thought  a  person  turbulent;  whereas  if  it  be  well 
advised,  there  is  a  great  difference  to  be  made  be- 
tween matters  contemplative  and  active.  For  in  go- 
vernment change  is  suspected,  though  to  the  better  ; 
but  it  is  natural  to  arts  to  be  in  perpetual  agitation 
and  growth.  Neither  is  the  danger  alike  of  new  light, 
and  of  new  motion  or  remove ;  and  for  vulgar  and 
received  opinions,  nothing  is  more  usual,  or  more 
usually  complained  of,  than  that  it  is  imposed  for  ar^ 
rogancy  and  presumption,  for  men  to  authorise  them- 
selves against  antiquity  and  authors,  towards  whom 
envy  is  ceased,  and  reverence  by  time  amortised  ;  it 
not  being  considered  what  Aristotle  himself  did,  upon 
whom  the  philosophy  that  now  is  chiefly  dependeth, 
who  came  with  a  professed  contradiction  to  all  the 
\vorld,  and  did  put  all  his  opinions  upon  his  own  au- 
thority and  argument,  and  never  so  much  as  nameth 
an  author,  but  to  confute  and  reprove  him ;  and  yet 
his  success  well  fulfilled  the  observation  of  him 
that  said,  Jfa  man  come  in  Ids  own  name,  him  willyou 
receive.  Men  think  likewise  that  if  they  should  give 
themselves  to  the  liberty  of  invention  and  travail  of 
inquiry,  that  they  shall  light  again  upon  some  con- 
ceits and  contemplations  which  have  been  formerly 
offered  to  the  world,  and  have  been  put  down  by 
better,  which  have  prevailed  and  brought  them  to 
.oblivion;  not  seeing,  that  howsoever  the  property  and 
breeding,  of  knowledges  is  in  great  and  excellent 

Filum  Labyrinlhi.  1.75 

wits,  }7ct  the  estimation  and  price  of  them  is  in  the 
multitude,  or  in  the  inclinations  of  princes  and  great 
persons  meanly  learned.  So  as  those  knowledges  are 
like  to  be  received  and  honoured,  which  have  their 
foundation  in  the  subtility  or  finest  trial  of  common 
sense,  or  such  as  fill  the  imagination,  and  not  such 
knowledge  as  is  digged  out  of  the  hard  mine  of  his- 
tory and  experience,  and  falleth  out  to  be  in  some 
points  as  adverse  to  common  sense,  or  popular  reason, 
as  religion,  or  more.  AVhich  kind  of  knowledge,  ex- 
cept it  be  delivered  with  strange  advantages  of  elo- 
quence and  power,  may  be  likely  to  appear  and  dis- 
close a  little  to  the  world,  and  straight  to  vanish  and 
shut  again.  So  that  time  seemeth  to  be  of  the  nature 
of  a  river  or  flood,  that  bringeth  down  to  us  that 
which  is  light  and  blown  up,  and  sinketh  and  drovvn- 
eth  that  which  is  solid  and  grave.  So  he  saw  well. 

O  ' 

that  in  the  state  of  religion,  and  in  the  administration 
of  learning,  and  in  .common  opinion,  there  were 
many  and  continual  stops  and  traverses  to  the  course 
of  invention. 

9.  He  thought  also,  that  the  invention  of  works 
and  further  possibility  was  prejudiced  in  a  more  spe- 
cial manner  than  that  of  speculative  truth ;  for  be- 
sides the  impediments  common  to  both,  it  hath  by 
itself  been  notably  hurt  and  discredited  by  the  vain 
promises  and  pretences  of  alchemy,,  magic,  astrology, 
and  such  other  arts,  which,  as  they  now  pass,  hold 
much  more  of  imagination  and  belief,  than  of  sense 
and  demonstration.  But  to  use  the  poet's  language, 
men  ought  to  have  remembered,  that  although  Ixion 
of  a  cloud  in  the  likeness  of  Juno  begat  Centaurs  and 
Chimeras,  yet  Jupiter  also  of  the  true  Juno  begat 
Vulcan  and  Hebe.  Neither  is  it  just  to  deny  credit 
to  the  greatness  of  the  acts  of  Alexander,  because  the 
like  or  more  strange  have  been  feigned  of  an  Amadis 
or  an  Arthur,  or  other  fabulous  worthies.  But  though 
this  in  true  reason  should  be,  and  that  men  ought 
not  to  make  a  confusion  of  unbelief ;  yet  he  saw  well 
it  could  not  otherwise  be  in  event,  but  that  experi- 
ence of  untruth  had  made  access  to  truth  more  dif- 

Filum  Labyr  inthi. 

ficult,  and  that  the  ignominy  of  vanity  had  abated  all 
greatness  of  mind. 

10.  He  thought  also,  there  was  found  in  the  mind 
of  man  an  affection  naturally  bred  and  fortified,  and 
furthered  by  discourse  and  doctrine,  which  did  per- 
vert the  true  proceeding  towards  active  and  operative 
knowledge.  This  was  a  false  estimation,  that  it 
should  be  as  a  diminution  to  the  mind  of  man  to  be 
much  conversant  in  experiences  and  particulars,  sub- 
ject to  sense,  and  bound  in  matter,  and  which  are 
laborious  to  search,  ignoble  to  meditate,  harsh  to  de- 
liver, illiberal  to  practise,  infinite  as  is  supposed  in 
number,  and  no  ways  accommodated  to  the  glory  of 
arts.  This  opinion  or  state  of  mind  received  much 
credit  and  strength  by  the  school  of  Plato,  who  think- 
ing that  particulars  rather  revived  the  notions,  or  ex- 
cited the  faculties  of  the  mind,  than  merely  informed; 
and  having  mingled  his  philosophy  with  superstition, 
which  never  favoureth  the  sense,  extolleth  too  much 
the  understanding  of  man  in  the  inward  light  thereof. 
And  again,  Aristotle's  school,  which  giveth  the  dew 
to  the  sense  in  assertion,  denieth  it  in  practice  much 
more  than  that  of  Plato.  For  we  see  the  schoolmen, 
Aristotle's  successors,  which  were  utterly  ignorant  of 
history,  rested  only  upon  agitation  of  wit ;  whereas 
Plato  giveth  good  example  of  inquiry  by  induction 
and  view  of  particulars  ;  though  in  such  a  wandering 
manner  as  is  of  no  force  or  fruit.  So  that  he  saw  well, 
that  the  supposition  of  the  sufficiency  of  man's  mind 
hath  lost  the  means  thereof. 







Charla  suggestionis,  sive  memoria  fixa. 

1  HE  sun-beams  hot  to  sense. 

The  moon-beams  not  hot,  but  rather  conceived  to 
have  a  quality  of  cold,  for  that  the  greatest  colds  are 
noted  to  be  about  the  full,  and  the  greatest  heats 
about  the  change.  Query. 

The  beams  of  the  stars  have  no  sensible  heat  by 
themselves  ;  but  are  conceived  to  have  an  augmenta- 
tive heat  of  the  sun-beams  by  the  instance  following. 
The  same  climate  arctic  and  antarctic  are  observed  to 
differ  in  cold,  namely,  that  the  antarctic  is  the  more 
cold,  and  it  is  manifest  the  antarctic  hemisphere  is 
thinner  planted  with  stars. 

The  heats  observed  to  be  greater  in  July  than  in 
June  ;  at  which  time  the  sun  is  nearest  the  greatest 
fixed  stars,  namely,  Cor  Leonis,  Cauda  Leonis,  Spica 
Firginif$  Syrius,  Canicida. 

The  conjunction  of  any  two  of  the  three  highest 
planets  noted  to  cause  great  heats. 

Comets  conceived  by  some  to  be  as  well  causes  as 
effects  of  heat,  much  more  the  stars. 

The  sun-beams  have  greater  heat  when  they  are  more 
perpendicular  than  when  they  are  more  oblique;  as 
appeareth  in  difference  of  regions,  and  the  diffe* 
rence  of  the  times  of  summer  and  winter  in  the  .same 

VOL.  II.  N 

178  DC  Calore  et  Fngore. 

region ;  and  chiefly  in  the  difference  of  the  hours  of 
mid-day,  mornings,  evenings  in  the  same  day. 

The  heats  more  extreme  in  July  and  August  than 
in  May  or  June,  commonly  imputed  to  the  stay  and 
continuance  of  heat. 

The  heats  more  extreme  under  the  tropics  than 
under  the  line:  commonly  imputed  to  the  stay  and 
continuance  of  heat,  because  the  sun  there  doth  as  it 
were  double  a  cape. 

The  heats  more  about  three  or  four  of  clock  than 
at  noon  ;  commonly  imputed,  to  the  stay  and  conti- 
nuance of  heat. 

The  sun  noted  to  be  hotter  when  it  shineth  forth 
between  clouds,  than  when  the  sky  is  open  and  se- 

The  middle  region  of  the  air  hath  manifest  effects 
of  cold,  notwithstanding  locally  it  be  nearer  the 
sun,  commonly  imputed  to  antiperistasis,  assuming 
that  the  beams  of  the  sun  are  hot  either  by  approach 
or  by  reflexion,  and  that  falleth  in  the  middle  term 
between  both;  or  if,  as  some  conceive,  it  be  only  by 
reflexion,  then  the  cold  of  that  region  resteth  chiefly 
upon  distance.  The  instances  shewing  the  cold  of 
that  region,  are  the  snows  which  descend,  the  hails 
which  descend,  and  the  snows  and  extreme  colds 
which  are  upon  high  mountains. 

But  Query,  of  such  mountains  as  adjoin  to  sandy 
vales,  and  not  to  fruitful  vales,  which  minister  no  va- 
pours ;  or  of  mountains  above  the  region  of  vapours, 
as  is  reported  of  Olympus,  where  any  inscription 
upon  the  ashes  of  the  altar  remained  untouched  of 
wind  or  dew.  And  note,  it  is  also  reported,  that 
men  carry  up  sponges  with  vinegar  to  thicken  their 
breath,  the  air  growing  too  fine  for  respiration,  which 
seemeth  not  to  stand  with  coldness. 

The  clouds  make  a -mitigation  of  the  heat  of  the 
sun.  So  doth  the  interposition  of  any  body,  which 
we  term  shades;  but  yet  the  nights  in  summer  are 
many  times  as  hot  to  the  feeling  of  mens  bodies  as 
the  days  are  within  doors,  where  the  beams  of  the 
sun  actually  beat  not. 

DC  Galore  et  F rigor e.  1?9 

There  is  no  other  nature  of  heat  known  from  the 
celestial  bodies  or  from  the  air,  but  that  which  cometh 
by  the  sun-beams.  For  in  the  countries  near  the 
pole,  we  see  the  extreme  colds  end  in  the  summer 
months,  as  in  the  voyage  of  Nova  Zembla,  where 
they  could  not  disengage  their  barks  from  the  ice,  no 
not  in  July,  and  met  with  great  mountains  of  ice, 
some  floating,  some  fixed,  at  that  time  of  the  year, 
being  the  heart  of  summer. 

The  caves  under  the  earth  noted  to  be  warmer  in 
winter  than  in  summer,  and  so  the  waters  that 
spring  from  within  the  earth. 

Great  quantity  of  sulphur,  and  sometimes  naturally 
burning  after  the  manner  of  ./Etna,  in  Iceland  -,  the 
like  written  of  Greenland,  and  divers  other  the  cold 
countries  *> 

The  trees  in  the  cold  countries  are  such  as  are  fuller 
of  rosin,  pitch,  tar,  which  are  matters  apt  for  fire,  and 
the  woods  themselves  more  combustible  than  those 
in  much  hotter  countries ;  as  for  example,  fir,  pine- 
apple, juniper:  Query,  wrhether  their  trees  of  the 
same  kind  that  ours  are,  as  oak  and  ash,  bear  not,  in 
the  more  cold  countries,  a  wood  more  brittle  and 
ready  to  take  fire  than  the  same  kinds  with  us  ? 

The  sun-beams  heat  manifestly  by  reflexion,  as  in 
countries  pent  in  with  hills,  upon  walls  or  buildings, 
upon  pavements,  upon  gravel  more  than  earth,  upon 
arable  more  than  grass,  upon  rivers  if  they  be  not 
very  open,  etc. 

The  uniting  or  collection  of  the  sun-beams  multi- 
plieth  heat,  as  in  burning-glasses,  which  are  made 
thinner  in  the  middle  than  on  the  sides,  as  I  take  it 
contrary  to  spectacles ;  and  the  operation  of  them  is, 
as  I  remember,  first  to  place  them  between  the  sun 
and  the  body  to  be  fired,  and  then  to  draw  them  up- 
ward towards  the  sun,  which  it  is  true  maketh  the 
angle  of  the  cone  sharper.  But  then  I  take  it  if  the 
glass  had  been  first  placed  at  the  same  distance,  to 

*  No  doubt  the  heat  of  the  sun  hath  great  power  in  cold  countries, 
though  it  be  not  to  the  analogy  of  men,  and  fruits,  etc. 

N    2 

ISO  De  Calore  et  Frlgore. 

which  it  is  after  drawn,  it  would  not  have  had  that 
force,  and  yet  that  had  been  all  one  to  the  sharpness 
of  the  angle.  2ite?y. 

So  in  that  the  sun's  beams  are  hotter  perpendicu- 
larly than  obliquely,  it  may  be  imputed  to  the  union 
of  the  beams,  which  in  case  of  perpendicularity  reflect 
into  the  very  same  lines  with  the  direct ;  and  the  fur- 
ther from  perpendicularity  the  more  obtuse  the  angle, 
and  the  greater  distance  between  the  direct  beam  and 
the  reflected  beam. 

The  sun-beams  raise  vapours  out  of  the  earth,  and 
when  they  withdraw  they  fall  back  in  dews. 

The  sun-beams  do  many  times  scatter  the  mists 
which  are  in  the  mornings. 

The  sun-beams  cause  the  divers  returns  of  the  herbsf 
plants,  and  fruits  of  the  earth  ;  for  we  see  in  lemon- 
trees  and  the  like,  that  there  is  coming  on  at  once 
fruit  ripe,  fruit  unripe,  and  blossoms;  which  may  shew 
that  the  plant  worketh  to  put  forth  continually,  were 
it  not  for  the  variations  of  the  accesses  and  recesses  of 
the  sun,  which  call  forth,  and  put  back. 

The  excessive  heat  of  the  sun  doth  wither  and  de^ 
stroy  vegetables,  as  well  as  the  cold  doth  nip  and 
blast  them. 

The  heat  or  beams  of  the  sun  doth  take  away  the 
smell  of  flowers,  specially  such  as  are  of  a  milder 

The  beams  of  the  sun  do  disclose  summer  flowers, 
as  the  pimpernel,  marigold,  and  almost  all  flowers 
else,  for  they  close  commonly  morning  and  evening, 
or  in  over-cast  weather,  and  open  in  the  brightness 
of  the  sun  ;  which  is  but  imputed  to  dryness  and  mois- 
ture, which  doth  make  the  beams  heavy  or  erect ;  and 
not  to  any  other  propriety  in  the  sun-beams;  so  they 
report  not  only  a  closing,  but  a  bending  or  in- 
clining in  the  hdiotropium  and  calendula.  Query. 

The  sun-beams  do  ripen  all  fruits,  and  addeth  to 
them  a  sweetness  or  fatness ;  and  yet  some  sultry  hot 
days  overcast,  are  noted  to  ripen  more  than  bright 

The  sun-beams  are  thought  to  mend  distilled  vva- 

De  Galore  ct  Frigore*  1  SI 

fers,  the  glasses  being  well  stopped,  and  to  make 
them  more  virtuous  and  fragrant. 

The  sun-beams  do  turn  wine  into  vinegar ;  but 
Query,  whether  they  would  not  sweeten  verjuice  ? 

The  sun-beams  do  pall  any  wine  or  beer  that  is  set 
in  them. 

The  sun-beams  do  take  away  the  lustre  of  any  silks 
or  arms. 

There  is  almost  no  mine  but  lieth  some  depth  in  tfie 
earth;  gold  is  conceived  lo  lie  highest,  and  in  the 
hottest  countries  ;  yet  Thracia  and  Hungary  are  co!df 
and  the  hills  of  Scotland  have  yielded  gold,  but  m 
small  grains  or  quantity. 

If  you  set  a  root  of  a  tree  too  deep  in  the  ground, 
that  root  will  perish,  and  the  stock  will  put  forth  a 
ttew  root  nearer  the  superficies  of  the  earth. 

Some  trees  and  plants  prosper  best  in  the  shade  ;  as 
the  baycs,  strawberries,  some  wood-flowers. 

Almost  all  flies  love  the  sun-beams,  so  do  snakes; 
toads  and  worms  contrary. 

The  sun-beams  tanneth  the  skin  of  man ;  and'  in 
some  places  turneth  it  to  black. 

The  sun-beams  are  hardly  endured  'by  many,  but 
cause  head-ach,  faintness,  and  with  many  they  cause 
rheums;  yet  to  aged  men  they  are  comfortable. 

The  sun  causes  pestilence,  which  with  us  rage 
about  autumn:  but- it  is  reported,  in  Barbary  they 
break  up  about  June,  and  rage  most  in  winter. 

The  heat  of  the  sun,  and  of  fire,  and  living  crea- 
tures, agree  in  some  things  which  pertain  to  vivifi- 
cation  ;  as  the  back  of  a  chimney  will  set  forward  an 
»pric6t-tree  as  well  as  the  sun :  the  fire  will  raise  a 
dead  butterfly  as  well  as  tbe  sun  ;  and  so  will  the  heat 
of  a  living  creature.  The  heat  of  the  sun  in  sand  will 
hatch  an  egg.  Query. 

The  heat  of  the  sun  .in  the  hottest  countries  is  no- 
thing so  violent  as  that  of  fire,  no  not  scarcely  so  hot 
to  the  sense  as  that  of  a  living  creature. 

The  sun,  a  fountain  of  light  as  well  as  heat.  The 
other  celestial  bodies  manifest  in  light,  and  yet  non 
tQnsfat  whether  all  borrowed,  as  in  the  moon;  but 
obscure  in  heat, 

182  De  Calore  et  Frigort'. 

The  southern  and  western  wind  with  us  is  tlio 
warmest,  whereof  the  one  bloweth  from  the  sun,  the 
other  from  the  sea;  the  northern  and  eastern  the 
more  cold.  Querij,  whether  in  the  coast  of  Florida, 
or  at  Brasil,  the  east  wind  be  not  the  warmest,  and 
the  west  the  coldest  ;  and  so  beyond  the  antartic  tro-: 
pic,  the  southern  wind  the  coldest. 

The  air  useth  to  be  extreme  hot  before  thunders. 

The  sea  and  air  ambient,  appeareth  to  be  hotter  than 
that  at  land ;  for  in  the  northern  voyages  two  or  three 
degrees  farther  at  the  open  sea,  they  find  less  ice  than, 
two  or  three  degrees  more  south  near  land ;  but 
Query,  for  that  may  be  by  reason  of  the  shores  ancl 

The  snows  dissolve  fastest  upon  the  sea-coasts,  yet 
the  winds  are  counted  the  bitterest  from  the  sea,  and 
such  as  trees  will  bend  from.  Query. 

The  streams  or  clouds  of  brightness  which  appear 
in  the  firmament,  being  such  through  which  the 
stars  may  be  seen,  and  shoot  not,  but  rest,  are  signs, 
of  heat. 

The  pillars  of  light,  which  are  so  upright,  and  dq 
commonly  shoot  and  vary,  are  signs  of  cold;  but  both 
these  are  signs  of  drought. 

The  air  when  it  is  moved  is  to  the  sense  colder ;  as 
in  winds,  fannings,  ventilabra. 

The  air  in  things  fibrous,  as  fleeces,  furs,  etc.  warm ; 
and  those  stuffs  to  the  feeling  warm. 

The  water  to  man's  body  seemeth  colder  than  the 
air  ;  and  so  in  summer,  in  swimming  it  seemeth  at  the 
first  going  in  ;  and  yet  after  one  hath  been  in  a  while, 
at  the  coming  forth  again,  the  air  seemeth  colder  than, 
the  water. 

The  snow  more  cold  to  the  sense  than  water,  and 
the  ice  than  snow  ;  and  they  have  in  Italy  means  to 
keep  snow  and  ice  for  the  cooling  of  their  drinks : 
Query,  whether  it  be  so  in  froth  in  respect  of  the 

Baths  of  hot  water  feel  hottest  at  the  first  going  in. 

The  frost  dew  which  we  see  in  hoar  frost,  and  in 
the  rymes  upon  trees  or  the  like,  accounted  more 

DC  Galore  ct  Frlgore.  1 3  3 

mortifying  cold  than  snow ;  for  snow  cherisheth  the 
ground,  and  any  thing  sowed  in  it ;  the  other  biteth 
and  killeth. 

Stone  and  metal  exceeding  cold  to  the  feeling  more 
than  wood  :  yea  more  than  jet  or  amber,  or  horn, 
which  are  no  less  smooth. 

The  snow  is  ever  in  the  winter  season,  but  the  hail, 
which  is  more  of  the  nature  of  ice,  is  ever  in  the  sum- 
mer season  ;  whereupon  it  is  conceived,  that  as  the 
hollows  of  the  earth  are  warmest  in  the  winter,  so 
that  region  of  the  air  is  coldest  in  the  summer ;  as  if 
they  were  a  fugue  of  the  nature  of  either  from  the 
contrary,  and  a  collecting  itself  to  an  union,  and  so 
to  a  further  strength, 

So  in  the  shades  under  trees,  in  the  summer,  which 
stand  in  an  open  field,  the  shade  noted  to  be  colder 
than  in  a  wood. 

Cold  effecteth  congelation  in  liquors,  so  as  they 
do  consist  and  hold  together,  which  before  did  run. 

Cold  breaketh  glasses,  if  they  be  close  stopped,  in 
frost,,  when  the  liquor  freezeth  within. 

Cold  in  extreme  maketh  metals,  that  are  dry  and 
brittle,  cleft  and  crack,  JEraque  dissiliunts  so  of  pots 
of  earth  and  gla^ss. 

Cold  maketh  bones  of  living  creatures  more  fragile. 

Cold  maketh  living  creatures  to  swell  in  the  joints, 
and  the  blood  to  clot,  and  turn  more  blue. 

Bitter  frosts  do  malwe  all  drinks  to  taste  more  dead 
and  flat. 

Cold  maketh  the  arteries  and  flesh  more  asper  and 

Cold  causes  rheums  and  distillations  by  compres- 
sing the  brain,  and  laxes  by  like  reason. 

Cold  increases  appetite  in  the  stomach,  and  willing- 
ness to  stir. 

Cold  maketh  the  fire  to  scald  and  sparkle. 

Paracelsus  reporteth,  that  if  a  glass  of  wine  be  set 
upon  a  terras  in  a  bitter  frost,  it  will  leave  some  li- 
quor unfrozen  in  the  centre  of  the  glass,  which  excel- 
letb  spiritus  vinl  drawn  by  fire. 

Cold  in  Muscovy,  and  the  like  countries,  causes 

184  De  Calore  et  Frigore. 

those  parts  which  are  voidest  of  blood,  as  the  nose, 
the  ears, the  toes,  the  ringers,  to  mortify  and  rot;  espe- 
cially if  you  come  suddenly  to  fire,  after  you  have 
been  in  the  air  abroad,  they  are  sure  to  moulder  and 
dissolve.  They  use  for  remedy,  as  is  said,  washing 
in  snow  water. 

If  a  man  come  out  of  a  bitter  cold  suddenly  to  the 
fire,  he  is  ready  to  swoon  or  be  overcome. 

So  contrariwise  at  Nova  Zembla,  when  they  opened 
their  door  at  times  to  go  forth,  he  that  opened  the 
door  was  in  danger  to  be  overcome. 

The  quantity  of  fish  in  the  cold  countries,  Nor-? 
way,  etc.  very  abundant 

The  quantity  of  fowl  and  eggs  laid  in  the  cliffs  in 
great  abundance. 

In  Nova  Zembla  they  found  no  beasts  but  bears 
and  foxes,  whereof  the  bears  gave  over  to  be  seen 
about  September,  and  the  foxes  began. 

Meat  will  keep  from  putrifying  longer  in  frosty 
•weather,  than  at  other  times. 

In  Iceland  they  keep  fish,  by  exposing  it  to  the 
cold,  from  putrifying  without  salt. 

The  nature  of  man  endureth  the  colds  in  the  coun- 
tries of  Scricfinnia,  Biarmia,  Lappia,  Iceland,  Groen^ 
land  ;  and  that  not  by  perpetual  keeping  in  in  stoves 
in  the  winter  time,  as  they  do  in  Russia  :  but  contra- 
riwise, their  chief  fairs  and  intercourse  is  written  ta 
be  in  the  winter,  because  the  ice  evens  and  levelleth 
the  passages  of  waters,  plashes,  etc. 

A  thaw  after  a  frost  doth  greatly  rot  and  mellow 
the  ground. 

Extreme  cold  hurteth  the  eyes,  and  cause th  blind- 
ness in  many  beasts,  as  is  reported. 

The  cold  maketh  any  solid  substance,  as  wood, 
stone,  metal,  put  to  the  flesh,  to  cleave  to  it,  and  tor 
pull  the  flesh  after  it,  and  so  put  to  any  cloth  that 
is  moist. 

Cold  maketh  the  pilage  of  beasts  more  thick  and 
long,  as  foxes  of  Muscovy,  sables,  etc. 

Cold  maketh  the  pilage  oF  most  beasts  incline  to 
grayness  or  whiteness,  as  foxes,  bears,  and  so  the 

De  Color e  et  Frigore.  1 8  5 

plumage  of  fowls ;  and  maketh  also  the  crests  of 
cocks  and  their  feet  white,  as  is  reported. 

Extreme  cold  will  make  nails  leap  out  of  the  walls, 
and  out  of  locks,  and  the  like. 

Extreme  cold  maketh  leather  to  be  stiff  like  horn. 

In  frosty  weather  the  stars  appear  clearest  and  most 

In  the  change  from  frost  to  open  weather,  or  from 
open  weather  to  frosts,  commonly  great  mists. 

In  extreme  colds  any  thing  never  so  little  which 
arresteth  the  air  maketh  it  to  congeal ;  as  we  see  in 
cobwebs  in  windows,  which  is  one  of  the  least  and 
weakest  threads  that  is,  and  yet  drops  gather  about  it 
like  chains  of  pearl. 

So  in  frosts,  the  inside  of  glass  windows  gathereth 
a  dew ;  Query,  if  not  more  without. 

Query,  Whether  the  sweating  of  marble  and  stones 
be  in  frost,  or  towards  rain. 

Oil  in  time  of  frost  gathereth  to  a  substance,  as  of 
tallow  ;  and  it  is  said  to  sparkle  some  time,  so  as  it 
giveth  a  light  in  the  dark. 

The  countries  which  lie  covered  with  snow,  have 
a  hastier  maturation  of  all  grain  than  in  other  coun- 
tries, all  being  within  three  months,  or  thereabouts. 

Query,  It  is  said,  that  compositions  of  honey,  as 
mead,  do  ripen,  and  are  most  pleasant  in  the  great 

The  frosts  with  us  are  casual,  and  not  tied  to  any 
months,  so  as  they  are  not  merely  caused  by  the 
recess  of  the  sun,  but  mixed  with  some  inferior  causes. 
In  the  inland  of  the  northern  countries,  as  in  Russia, 
the  weather  for  the  three  or  four  months  of  No- 
vember, December,  January,  February,  is  constant, 
namely,  clear  and  perpetual  frost,  without  snows  or 

There  is  nothing  in  our  region,  which,  by  approach 
of  a  matter  hot,  will  not  take  heat  by  transition  or 

There  is  nothing  hot  here  with  us  but  is  in  a  kind 
of  consumption,  if  it  carry  heat  in  itself;  for  all  fired 
things  are  ready  to  consume ;  chafed  things  are  ready 

186  DC  Galore  et  Frigorc. 

to  fire  ;  and  the  heat  of  mens  bodies  needeth  aliment 
to  restore. 

The  transition  of  heat  is  without  any  imparting  of 
substance,  and  yet  remaineth  after  the  body  heated  is 
withdrawn  ;  for  it  is  not  like  smells,  for  they  leave 
some  airs  or  parts ;  not  like  light,  for  that  abideth  not 
when  the  first  body  is  removed  ;  not  unlike  to  the 
motion  of  the  loadstone,  which  is  lent  without  ad- 
hesion of  substance,  for  if  the  iron  be  filed  where  it 
\yas  rubbed,  yet  it  will  draw  or  turn. 


Inquisitions  touching  the  compounding  of  met  ah. 

JL  O  make  proof  of  the  incorporation  of  iron  with 
flint,  or  other  stone.  For  if  it  can  be  incorporated 
without  over-great  charge,  or  other  incommodity,  the 
cheapness  of  the  flint  or  stone  doth  make  the  com- 
pound stuff  profitable  for  divers  uses.  The  doubts 
may  be  three  in  number. 

First,  Whether  they  will  incorporate  at  all,  other- 
wise than  to  a  body  that  will  not  hold  well  together, 
but  become  brittle  and  uneven  ? 

Secondly,  Although  it  should  incorporate  well,  yet 
whether  the  stuff  will  not  be  so  stubborn  as  it  will 
not  work  well  with  a  hammer,  whereby  the  charge  in 
working  will  overthrow  the  cheapness  of  the  ma- 
terial ? 

Thirdly,  Whether  they  will  incorporate,  except  the 
iron  and  stone  be  first  calcined  into  powder  ?  And  if 
not,  whether  the  charge  of  the  calcination  will  not 
cat  out  the  cheapness  of  the  material  ? 

The  uses  are  most  probable  to  be ;  first  for  the  im- 
plements of  the  kitchen ;  as  spits,  ranges,  cobirons, 
pots,  etc.  then  for  the  wars,  as  ordnance,  portcullises, 
grates,  chains,  etc. 

Note  ;  the  finer  works  of  iron  are  not  so  probable 
to  be  served  with  such  a  stuff;  as  locks,  clocks,  small 
chains,  etc.  because  the  stuff  is  not  like  to  be  tough 

For  the  better  use,  in  comparison  of  iron,  it  is  like 
the  stuff  will  be  far  lighter:  for  the  weight  of  iron  to 
flint  is  double  and  a  third  part ;  and,  secondly,  it  is 
like  to  rust  not  so  easily,  but  to  be  more  clean. 

The  ways  of  trial  are  two  :  first,  by  the  iron  and 
stone  of  themselves,  wherein  it  must  be  inquired, 
what  are  the  stones  that  do  easiliest  melt.  Secondly, 

i  8  S  Physiological  Remains. 

with  an  additament,  wherein  brimstone  is  approved 
to  help  to  the  melting  of  iron  or  steef.  But  then  it  must 
be  considered,  whether  the  charge  of  the  additament 
will  not  destroy  the  profit. 

It  must  be  known  also,  what  proportion  of  the 
stone  the  iron  will  receive  to  incorporate  well  with 
it,  and  that  with  once  roehing ;  for  if  either  the  pro- 
portion be  too  small,  or  that  it  cannot  be  received  but 
piece-meal  by  several  meltings,  the  work  caftnot  be 
of  value. 

To  make  proof  of  the  incorporating  of  iron  and 
brass.  For  the  cheapness  of  the  iron  ^comparison  of 
Ihe  brass,  if  the  uses  maybe  served,  doth  promise  pro- 
fit. The  doubt  will  be  touching  their  incorporating  ; 
for  that  it  is  approved,  that  iron  will  not  incorporate, 
neither  with  brass  -nor  other  rrretals,  of  itself,  by  sim- 
ple fire:  so  as  the  inquiry  must  be  upon  the  calcina- 
tion, and  the  additament,  and  the  charge  of  them, 

The  uses  will  be  for  ssrch  things  as  are  now  fl&acJeof 
&* ass>  and  might  be  as-  well  served  by  tile  compou-ml 
stuff;  wherein  the  doubts  will  be  chiefly  'of  the  tough- 
ness, and  of  the  beauty. 

First,  therefore,  if  brass  ordnance  could  be  made  of 
the  compound  stuff,  in  respect  of  the  cheapness  of 
the  iron,  it  would  be  of  great  use. 

The  advantage  which  brass  ordnance  hath  over 
rron,  is  chiefly,  as  I  suppose,  because  it  will '  hokl  the 
blow,  though  it  be  driven  far  thinner  than  the  iron  can 
be  ;  whereby  itsavethbothin  the  quantify  of  the  mate- 
rial, and  in  the  charge  and  commodity  of  moun ting. 
and  carriage,  in  regard,  by  reason  of  the  th illness,  it 
beareth  much  less  weight :  there  may  be  also  some- 
what in  being  not  so  easily  over-heated. 

Secondly,  for  the  beauty.  Those  things  wherein 
the  beauty  or  lustre  are  esteemed,  are  andirons,  a"nd 
all  manner  of  images,  and  statues,  and  columns,  and 
tombs,  and  the  like.  So  as  the  doubt  will  be-^iouble 
for  the  beauty;  the  one,  whether  the  colour  will  please 
so  well,  because  it  will  not  be  so  like  gold  as  brass? 
The  other,  whether  it  will  polish  so  well?  Whereiit 
for  the  latter  it  is  probable  it  will  ;  for  steel  glosses  are 
more  resplendent  than  the  like  plates  of  brass  would 

Physiological  Remains. 

be;  and  so  is  the  glittering  of  a  blade.  And  besides, 
I  take  it,  andiron  brass,  which  they  call  white  brass, 
hath  some  mixture  of  tin  to  help  the  lustre.  And  for 
the  golden  colour,  it  may  be  by  some  small  mixture  of 
orpiment,  such  as  they  use  to  brass  in  the  yellow  al- 
chemy 5  it  will  easily  recover  that  which  the  iron  loseth, 
Of  this  the  eye  must  be  the  judge  upon  proof  made. 

But  now  for  pans,  pots,  curfews,  counters,  and  the 
like,  the  beauty  will  not  be  so  much  respected,  so  as 
the  compound  stuff  is  like  to  pass. 

For  the  better  use  of  the  compound  stuff,  it  will  be 
sweeter  and  cleaner  than  brass  alone,  which  yieldeth 
a  smell  or  soiliness ;  and  therefore  may  be  better  for 
the  vessels  of  the  kitchen  and  brewing.  It  will  also 
be  harder  than  brass,  where  hardness  may  be  re- 

For  the  trial,  the  doubtswillbe  two  :  first;  the  over- 
weight of  brass  towards  iron,  which  will  make  iron 
float  on  the  top  in  the  melting.  This  perhaps  will  be 
holpen  with  thecalaminar  stone,  which  consentethso 
well  with  brass,  and,  as  I  take  it,  is  lighter  than  iron. 
The  other  doubt  will  be  the  stiffness  and  dryness  of 
iron  to  melt ;  which  must  be  holpen  either  by  mois- 
tening the  iron,  or  opening  it.  For  the  first,  perhaps 
some  mixture  of  lead  will  help.  Which  is  as  much 
more  liquid  than  brass,  as  iron  is  less  liquid.  The 
opening  may  be  holpen  by  some  mixture  of  sulphur: 
so  as  the  trials  would  be  with  brass,  iron,  calamin 
stone,  and  sulphur;  and  then  again  with  the  same 
composition,  and  an  addition  of  some  lead;  and  in  all 
this  the  charge  must  be  considered,  whether  it  eat 
not  out  the  profit  of  the  cheapness  of  iron  ? 

There  be  two  proofs  to  be  made  of  incorporation  of 
metals  for  magnificence  and  delicacy.  The  one  for 
the  eye,  and  the  other  for  the  ear.  Statue-metal,  and 
bell-metal,  and  trumpet-metal,  and  string-metal  $  in 
all  these,  though  the  mixture  of  brass  or  copper  should 
be  dearer  than  the  brass  itself,  yet  the  pleasure  will 
advance  the  price  to  profit. 

First  therefore  for  statue-metal,  see  Pliny's  mix- 
tures, which  are  almost  forgotten,  and  consider  the 

1 90  Physiological  Rcm  ains. 

Try  likewise  the  mixture  of  tin  in  larger  portion  with 
copper,  and  observe  the  colour  and  beauty,  it  being 
polished.  But  chiefly  let  proof  be  made  of  the  incor^ 
porating  of  copper  or  brass  with  glass-metal,  for  that 
is  cheap,  and  is  like  to  add  a  great  glory  and  shining. 

For  bell-metal.  First,  it  is  to  be  known  what  is 
the  composition  which  is  now  in  use.  Secondly,  it  is 
probable  that  it  is  the  dryness  of  the  metal  that  doth 
help  the  clearness  of  the  sound,  and  the  moistnessthat 
dulleth  it :  and  therefore  the  mixtures  that  are  proba- 
ble, are  steel,  tin,  glass-metal. 

For  string-metal,  or  trumpet-metal,  it  is  the  same 
reason  ;  save  that  glass-metal  may  not  be  used,  be- 
cause it  will  make  it  too  brittle  ;  and  trial  may  be 
made  with  mixture  of  silver,  it  being  but  a  delicacy, 
with  iron  or  brass. 

To  make  proof  of  the  incorporation  of  silver  and 
tin  in  equal  quantity,  or  with  two  parts  silver  and  one 
part  tin,  and  to  observe  whether  it  be  of  equal  beauty 
and  lustre  with  pure  silver;  ,and  also  whether  it  yield 
no  soiliness  more  than  silver?  And  again,  whether  it 
will  endure  the  ordinary  fire  which  belongeth  to  chaf- 
ing-dishes, posnets,  and  such  other  silver  vessels? 
And  if  it  do  not  endure  the  fire,  yet  whether  by  some 
mixture  of  iron  it  may  not  be  made  more  fixt  ?  For  if 
it»be  in  beauty  and  all  the  uses  aforesaid  equal  to  sil- 
ver, it  were  a  thing  of  singular  profit  to  the  state,  and 
to  all  particular  persons,  to  change  silver  plate  or  ves- 
sels into  the  compound  stuff,  being  a  kind  of  silver 
electrum,  and  to  turn  the  rest  into  coin.  It  may  be 
also  questioned,  whether  the  compound  stuff  will  re- 
ceive gilding  as  well  as  silver,  and  with  equal  lustre  ? 
It  is  to  be  noted,  that  the  common  allay  of  silver 
coin  is  brass,  which  doth  discolour  more,  and  is  not 
so  neat  as  tin. 

The  drownings  of  metals  within  other  metals,  in 
such  sort  as  they  can  never  rise  agrin  is  a  thing  of  great 
profit.  For  if  a  quantity  of  silver  can  be  so  buried  in 
gold,  as  it  wrill  never  be  reduced  again,  neither  by  fire, 
nor  parting  waters,  nor  otherwise :  and  also  that  it 
serve  all  uses  as  well  as  pure  gold,  it  is  in  effect  aW 

Physiological  Remains'.  19  J 

one  as  if  so  much  silver  were  turned  into  gold ;  only 
the  weight  will  discover  it ;  yet  that  taketh  off  but 
half  of  the  profit;  for  gold  is  not  fully  double  weight 
to  silver,  but  gold  is  twelve  times  price  to  silver. 

The  burial  must  be  by  one  of  these  two  ways,  either 
by  the  smallness  of  the  proportion,  as  perhaps  fifty  to 
to  one,  which  will  be  but  six-pence  gains  in  fifty 
shillings;  or  it  must  be  holpen  by  somewhat  which 
may  fix  the  silver,  never  to  be  restored  or  vapoured 
away,  when  it  is  incorporated  into  such  a  mass  of 
gold ;  for  the  less  quantity  is  ever  the  harder  to  sever : 
and  for  this  purpose  iron  is  the  likest,  or  coppel  stuff, 
upon  which  the  fire  hath  no  power  of  consumption. 

The  making  of  gold  seemeth  a  thing  scarcely  pos- 
sible ;  because  gold  is  the  heaviest  of  metals,  and  to 
add  matter  is  impossible  :  and  again,  to  drive  metals 
into  a  narrower  room  than  their  natural  extent  bear- 
eth,  is  a  condensation  hardly  to  be  expected.  But 
to  make  silver  seemeth  more  easy,  because  both 
quick-silver  and  lead  are  weightier  than  silver ;  so  as 
there  needeth  only  fixing,  and  not  condensing.  The 
degree  unto  this  that  is  already  known,  is  infusing  of 
quick-silver  in  a  parchment  or  otherwise,  in  the  midst 
of  molten  lead  when  it  cooleth ;  for  this  stupifieth  the 
quicksilver  that  it  runneth  no  more.  This  trial  is  to 
be  advanced  three  ways.  First,  by  iterating  the  melt- 
ing of  the  lead,  to  see  whether  it  will  not  make  the 
quick-silver  harder  and  harder.  Secondly,  to  put  re- 
algar hot  into  the  midst  of  the  quick-silver,  whereby  it 
may  be  condensed,  as  well  from  within  as  without. 
Thirdly,  to  try  it  in  the  midst  of  molten  iron,  or  molten 
steel,  which  is  a  body  more  likely  to  fix  the  quick- 
silver than  lead.  It  may  be  also  tried,  by  incorpo- 
rating powder  of  steel,  or  coppel  dust,  by  pouncing, 
into  the  quick-silver,  and  so  to  proceed  to  the  stupi- 

Upon  glass  four  things  should  be  put  in  proof.  The 
first,  means  to  make  the  glass  more  crystalline.  The 
second,  to  make  it  more  strong  for  falls,  and  for  fire, 
though  it  come  not  to  the  degree  to  be  malleable. 
The  third,  to  make  it  coloured  by  tinctures,  compar- 

J  92  Physiological  Remains. 

able  to  or  exceeding  precious  stones.  The  fourth,  to 
make  a  compound  body  of  glass  and  galletyle ;  that 
is,  to  have  the  colour  milky  like  a  chalcedon,  being  a 
stuff  between  a  porcelane  and  a  glass. 

For  the  first,  it  is  good  first  to  know  exactly  the 
several  materials  whereof  the  glass  in  use  is  made ; 
window-glass,  Normandy  and  Burgundy,  ale-house 
glass,  English  drinking-glass :  and  then  thereupon  to 
consider  what  the  reason  is  of  the  coarseness  or  clear- 
ness ;  and  from  thence  to  rise  to  a  consideration  how 
to  make  some  additaments  to  the  coarser  materials, 
to  raise  them  to  the  whiteness  and  crystalline  splendor 
of  the  finest. 

For  the  second,  we  see  pebbles,  and  some  other 
stones,  will  cut  as  fine  as  crystal,  which  if  they  will 
melt,  may  be  a  mixture  for  glass,  and  may  make  it 
more  tough  and  more  crystalline.  Besides,  we  see 
metals  will  vitrify  ;  and  perhaps  some  portion  of  the 
glass  of  metal  vitrified,  mixed  in  the  pot  of  ordinary' 
glass-metal,  will  make  the  whole  mass  more  tough. 

For  the  third,  it  were  good  to  have  of  coloured  win- 
dow-glass, such  as  is  coloured  in  the  pot,  and  not  by 

It  is  to  be  known  of  what  stuff  galletyle  is  made, 
and  how  the  colours  in  it  are  varied ;  and  thereupon 
to  consider  how  to  make  the  mixture  of  glass-metal 
and  them,  whereof  I  have  seen  the  example. 

Inquire  what  be  the  stones  that  do  easiliest  melt. 
Of  them  take  half  a  pound,  and  of  iron  a  pound  and  a 
half,  and  an  ounce  of  brimstone,  and  see  whether  they 
\vill  incorporate,  being  whole,  with  a  strong  fire.  If 
'  not,  try  the  same  quantities  calcined  :  and  if  they  will 
incorporate,  make  a  plate  of  them,  and  burnish  it  as 
they  do  iron. 

Take  a  pound  and  a  half  of  brass,  and  halfapound 
of  iron ;  two  ounces  of  the  calaminar  stone,  an  ounce 
and  a  half  of  brimstone,  an  ounce  of  lead ;  calcine 
them,  and  see  what  body  they  make;  and  if  they  in- 
corporate, make  a  plate  of  it  burnished. 

Take  of  copper  an  ounce  and  a  half,  of  tin  an 
ounce,  and  melt  them  together,  and  make  a  plate  of 
them  burnished. 

Physiological  Remams.  193 

Take  of  copperan  ounce  and  a  half,  of  tin  an  ounce, 
of  glass-metal  half  an  ounce;  stir  them  '?/ell  in  the 
boiling,  and  if  they  incorporate,  make  a  plate  of  them 

Take  of  copper  a  pound  and  a  half,  tin  four  ounces, 
brass  two  ounces ;  make  a  plate  of  them  burnished. 

Take  of  silver  two  ounces,  tin  half  an  ounce ;  make 
a  little  say-cup  of  it,  and  burnish  it. 

To  inquire  of  the  materials  of  every  of  the  kind 
of  glasses,  coarser  and  finer,  and  of  the  proportions. 

Take  an  equal  quantity  of  glass-metal,  of  stone  cal- 
cined, and  bring  a  pattern. 

Take  an  ounce  of  vitrified  metal,  and  a  pound  of 
ordinary  glass-metal,  and  see  whether  they  will  incor- 
porate, and  bring  a  pattern. 

Bring  examples  of  all  coloured  glasses,  and  learn 
the  ingredients  whereby  they  are  coloured, 

Inquire  of  the  substance  of  galletyle, 

VOL.  n. 






Concerning  the  compounding,  incorporating,  or  union  of 
metals  or  minerals.  Which  subject  is  the  first  letter 
of  his  Lordship 's  Alphabet. 

W  ITH  what  metals  gold  will  incorporate  by  sim- 
ple colliquefaction,  and  with  what  not  ?  And  in 
what  quantity  it  will  incorporate;  and  what  kind  of 
body  the  compound  makes  ? 

Gold  with  silver,  which  was  the  ancient  electrum  ;• 
gold  with  quick-silver  :  gold  with  lead :  gold  with 
copper:  gold  with  brass:  gold  with  iron:  gold  with 

So  likewise  of  silver:  silver  with  quick-silver:  sil- 
ver with  lead  :  silver  with  copper:  silver  with  brass: 
silver  with  iron:  Plinius secund.  lib.  xxxiii.  9.  Mis- 
Cidt  denario  triumvir  Antoniusf err  urn  >  silver  with  tin. 

So  likewise  of  quick-silver  :  quick-silver  with  lead  ; 
quicksilver  with  copper:  quick-silver  with  brass: 
quick-silver  with  iron  :  quick-silver  with  tin. 

So  of  lead  ;  lead  with  copper :  lead  with  brass  ; 
lead  with  iron  :  lead  with  tin.  ' Pliji,  xxxiv.  9. 

So  of  copper:  copper  with  brass;  copper  with 
iron  :  copper  with  tin, 

So  of  brass:  brass  with  iron:  brass  with  tin. 

So  of  iron :  iron  with  tin, 

What  be  the  compound  metals  that  are  common 
and  known?  And  what  are  the  proportions  of  their 
mixtures  ?  As, 

Latten  of  brass,  and  the  calaminar  stone. 

Physiological  Remains.  193 

Pewter  of  tin  and  lead. 

BeJJ-metal  of  etc.  and  the  counterfeit  plate,  which 
they  call  alchemy. 

The  decomposites  of  three  metals  or  more,  are  too 
long  to  inquire  of,  except  there  be  some  compositions 
of  them  already  observed. 

It  is  also  to  be  observed,  whether  any  two  metals 
which  will  not  mingle  of  themselves,  will  mingle 
with  the  help  of  another;  and  what. 

What  compounds  will  be  made  of  metal  with  stone 
and  other  fossils;  as  latten  is  made  with  brass  and  the 
calaminar  stone  ;  as  all  the  metals  incorporate  with 
vitriol ;  all  with  iron  powdered  ;  all  with  flint,  etc. 

Some  few  of  these  should  be  inquired  of,  to  disclose 
the  nature  of  the  rest. 

Whether  metals  or  other  fossils  will  incorporate 
with  molten  glass,  and  what  body  it  makes  ? 

The  quantity  in  the  mixture  should  be  well  consi- 
dered ;  for  some  small  quantity  perhaps  will  incorpo- 
rate, as  in  the  allays  of  gold  and  silver  coin. 

Upon  the  compound  body,  three  things  are  chiefly 
to  be  observed :  the  colour ;  the  fragility  or  pliantness  > 
the  volatility  or  fixation,  compared  with  the  simple 

For  present  use  or  profit,  this  is  the  rule :  consider 
the  price  of  the  two  simple  bodies ;  consider  again 
the  dignity  of  the  one  above  the  other  in  use ;  then 
see  if  you  can  make  a  compound,  that  will  save  more 
in  price,  than  it  will  lose  in  dignity  of  the  use. 

As  for  example ;  consider  the  price  of  brass  ord- 
nance ;  consider  again  the  price  of  iron  ordnance,  and 
then  consider  wherein  the  brass  ordnance  doth  excel 
the  iron  ordnance  in  use;  then  if  you  can  make  a  com- 
pond  of  brass  and  iron  that  will  be  near  as  good  in 
use,  and  much  cheaper  in  price,  then  there  is  profit 
both  to  the  private  and  the  commonwealth.  So  of 
gold  and  silver,  the  price  is  double  of  twelve:  the  dig- 
nity of  gold  above  silver  is  not  much,  the  splendour 
is  alike,  and  more  pleasing  to  some  eyes,  as  in  cloth  of 
silver,  silvered  rapiers,  etc.  The  main  dignity  is,  that 
gold  bears  the  fire,  which  silver  doth  not:  but  that  is 

o  2 

196  Physiological  Remains. 

an  excellency  in  nature,  but  it  is  nothing  at  all  in  use  ; 
for  any  dignity  in  use  I  know  none,  but  that  silvering 
will  sully  and  caqker  more  than  gilding ;  which  if  it 
might  be  corrected  with  a  little  mixture  of  gold,  there 
Is  profit:  and  I  do  somewhat  marvel  that  the  latter 
ages  have  lost  the  ancient  electrwn,  which  was  a  mix- 
ture of  silver  with  gold :  whereof  I  conceive  there 
may  be  much  use,  both  in  coin,  plate,  and  gilding, 

It  is  to  be  noted,  that  there  is  in  the  version  of  mer 
tals  impossibility,  or  at  least  great  difficulty,  as  in. 
making  of  gold,  silver,  copper.  On  the  other  side,  in 
the  adulterating  or  counterfeiting  of  metals,  there  is 
deceit  and  yillany.  But  it  should  seem  there  is  a 
middle  way,  and  that  is  by  new  compounds,  if  the 
ways  of  incorporating  were  well  known, 

What  incorporation  or  imbibition  metals  will  rer 
ceive  from  vegetables,  without  being  dissolved  in  their 
substance:  as  when  the  armourers  make  their  steel 
more  tough  and  pliant,  by  aspersion  of  water  or  juice 
pf  herbs  $  when  gold  being  grown  somewhat  churlish 
by  recovering,  is  made  more  pliant  by  throwing  in 
shreds  of  tanned  leather,  or  by  leather  oiled. 

Note,  that  in  these  and  the  like  shews  of  imbibi? 
tion,  it  were  good  to  try  by  the  weights,  whether  the 
weight  be  increased,  or  ho;  for  if  it  be  not,  it  is  to 
be  doubted  that  there  is  no  imbibition  of  substance, 
but  only  that  the  application  of  that  other  body  doth 
dispose  and  invite  the  metal  to  another  posture  of 
parts,  than  of  itself  it  would  have  taken. 

After  the  incorporation  of  metals  by  simple  colli- 
quefaction,  for  the  better  discovery  of  the  nature  and 
consents  and  dissents  of  metals,  it  should  be  likewise 
tried  by  incorporating  of  their  dissolutions.  What 
metals  being  dissolved  in  strong  waters  will  incorpo- 
rate well  together,  and  what  not  ?  Which  is  to  be 
inquired  particularly,  as  it  was  in  colliquefactions. 

There  is  to  be  observed  in  those  dissolutions  which 
will  not  easily  incorporate,  what  the  effects  are :  as 
the  bullition ;  the  precipitation  to  the  bottom;  the 
ejaculation  towards  the  top;  the  suspension  in  the 
midst ;  and  the  like. 

Physiological  Remains-.  1 97 

Note,  that  the  dissents  of  the  menstrual  or  strong 
waters  may  hinder  the  incorporation,  as  well  as  the 
dissents  of  the  metals  themselves  3  therefore  where 
the  menstrua  are  the  same,  and  yet  the  incorporation 
folio weth  not,  you  may  conclude  the  dissent  is  in  tile 
metals ;  but  where  the  menstrua  are  several,  not  so 

Dr.  Mevcrel's  answers  to  the  foregoing  questions,  con- 
cerning the  compounding,  incorporating,  or  union  of 
metals  and  minerals. 

GOLD  will  incorporate  with  silver  in  any  propor- 
tion. Plin.  lib.  xxxiii.  cap.  4. — Omni  auro  inest  ar+ 
gentum  vario  pondere  ;  alibi  dena,  alibi  nona,  alibi  vctavct 
parte — Ubicunque  quinta  argenti  portio  invenitur,  dec- 
triim  vocatur.  The  body  remains  fixt,  solid,  and  co- 
loured, according  to  the  proportion  of  the  two  metals* 

Gold  with  quick-silver  easily  mixeth,  but  the  pro- 
duct is  imperfectly  fixed;  and  so  are  all  other  metals 
incorporate  with  mercury* 

Gold  incorporates  with  lead  in  any  proportion. 

Gold  incorporates  with  copper  in  any  proportion, 
the  common  allay. 

Gold  incorporates  with  brass  in  any  proportion. 
And  what  is  said  of  copper  is  true  of  brass,  in  the 
union  of  other  metals. 

Gold  will  not  incorporate  with  iron. 

Gold  incorporates  with  tin,  the  ancientallay.  Isa.i.  25. 

What  was  said  of  gold  and  quick-silver,  may  be 
said  of  quick-silver  and  the  rest  of  metals. 

Silver  with  lead  in  any  proportion. 

Silver  incorporates  with  copper.  Pliny  mentions 
such  a  mixture  for  triumphalcs  status,  lib.  xxxiii.  9. 
Miscenlur  argento,  tertia  pars  ceris  Cyprii  tenuissimi, 
quod  coronarium  vacant,  et  sulphur  is  vim  quantum  ar- 
genti.  The  same  is  true  of  brass. 

Silver  incorporates  not  with  iron.  Wherefore  I  won- 
der at  that  which  Pliny  hath,  lib.  xxxiii.  9.  Miscuit 
denario  triumvir  Antoniusferrum.  And  what  is  said 
of  this  is  true  in  the  rest  ;  for  iron  incorporate^  with 
none  of  them. 

Silver  mixes  with  tin, 

Physiological  Remains. 

Lead  incorporates  with  copper.  Such  a  mixture 
was  the  pot-metal  whereof  Pliny  speaks,  lib.  xxxiv.  9. 
Term's  ant  qudternis  libris  plumb  i  argentarii  in  centenas 
aeris  additis. 

Lead  incorporates  with  tin.  The  mixture  of  these 
,  two  in  equal  proportions,  is  that  which  was  anciently 
called  plumbum  argentarium,  Piin.  lib.  xxxiv.  17. 

Copper  incorporates  with  tin.  Of  such  a  mixture 
were  the  mirrors  of  the  Romans.  Plin.  Atque  ut  om- 
nia  de  speculis  peragantur  hoc  loco,  optima  apud  majores 
Grant  Brundusina,  stanno  ettere  mistis.  Lib.  xxxiii.  9. 

Compound  metals  now  in  use. 

1.  Fine  tin.     The  mixture  is  thus  :  pure  tin  a  thou- 
sand pounds,  temper  fifty  pounds,  glass  of  tin   three 

2.  Coarse   pewter  is   made  of  fine  tin  and  lead. 
Temper  is  thus  made :  the  dross   of  pure   tin,  four 
pounds  and  a  half;  copper,  half  a  pound. 

3.  Brass  is  made  of  copper  and  calaminaris. 

4.  Bell-metal.     Copper,  a  thousand  pounds;  tin, 
from  three  hundred  to  two  hundred  pounds ;  brass,  a 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 

5.  Pot-metal,  copper  and  lead. 

6.  White  alchemy  is  made  of  pan-brass  one  pound, 
and  arsenicum  three  ounces. 

7.  Red  alchemy  is  made  of  copper  and  auripig- 

There  be  divers  imperfect  minerals,  which  will  in- 
corporate with  the  metals:  being  indeed  metals  in- 
wardly, but  clothed  with  earths  and  stones :  as  pyritis, 
calaminarist  misyy  chaldtisy  sory,  vitriolum. 

Metals  incorporate  not  with  glass,  except  they  be 
brought  into  the  form  of  glass. 

Metals  dissolved.  The  dissolution  of  gold  arid 
silver  disagree,  so  that  in  their  mixture  there  is  great 
ebullition,  darkness,  and  in  the  end  a  precipitation  of 
a  black  powder. 

The  mixture  of  gold  and  mercury  agree. 

Gold  agrees  with  iron.  In  a  word,  the  dissolution 
of  mercury  and  iron  agree  with  all  the  rest. 

Physiological  Remains.  1 99 

Silver  and  copper  disagree,  and  so  do  silver  and 
lead.  Silver  and  tin  agree. 

The  second  letter  of  the  cross-row,  touching  the  separa* 
(ion  of  metals  and  minerals. 

SEPARATION  is  of  three  sorts ;  the  first,  is  the 
separating  of  the  pure  metal  from  the  ore  or  dross, 
which  we  call  refining.  The  second  is,  the  drawing 
one  metal  or  mineral  out  of  another,  which  we  call 
extracting.  The  third  is,  the  separating  of  any  me- 
tal into  its  original  or  mater  ia  prima,  or  element,  or 
call  them  what  you  will ;  which  work  we  will  call 

1 .  For  refining,  we  are  to  inquire  of  it  according  to 
the  several  metals  ;  as  gold,  silver,  etc.  Incidentally 
we  are  to  inquire  of  the  first  stone,  or  ore,  or  spar,  or 
marcasite  of  metals  severally,  and  what  kind  of  bodies  < 
they  are,  and  of  the  degrees  of  richness.  Also  we 
are  to  inquire  of  the  means  of  separating,  whether  by 
fire,  parting  waters,  or  otherwise.  Also  for  the  man- 
ner of  refining,  you  are  to  see  how  you  can  multiply 
the  heat,  or  hasten  the  opening,  and  so  save  the  charge 
in  the  fining. 

The  means  of  this  in  three  manners  ;  that  is  to  say, 
in  the  blast  of  the  fire;  in  the  manner  of  the  furnace, 
to  multiply  heat  by  union  and  reflexion ;  and  by  some 
additament,  or  medicines  which  wrill  help  the  bodies 
to  open  them  the  sooner. 

Note,  the  quickningof  the  blast,  and  the  multiply- 
ing of  the  heat  in  the  Furnace,  may  be  the  same  for  all 
metals;  but  the  additaments  must  be  several,  accord- 
ing to  the  nature  of  the  metals.  Note  again,  that  if 
you  think  that  multiplying  of  the  additaments  in  the 
same  p/oportion  that  you  multiply  the  ore,  the  work 
will  follow,  you  may  be  deceived  :  for  quantity  in  the 
passive  will  add  more  resistance,  than  the  same  quan- 
tity in  the  active  will  add  force. 

2.  For  extracting,  you  are  to  inquire  what  metals 
contain  others,  and  likewise  what  not;  as  lead,  silver  ; 
copper,  silver,  etc. 

Note;  although  the  charge  of  extraction  should  ex- 

200  Physiological  Remains. 

ceed  the  worth,  yet  that  is  not  the  matter :  for  at 
least  it  will  discover  nature  and  possibility,  the  other 
may  be  thought  on  afterwards. 

We  are  likewise  to  inquire,  what  the  differences  are 
of  those  metals  which  contain  more  or  less  other 
metals,  and  how  that  agrees  with  the  poorness  or 
richness  of  the  metals  or  ore  in  themselves.  As  the 
lead  that  contains  most  silver  is  accounted  to  be  more 
brittle,  and  yet  otherwise  poorer  in  itself. 

3.  For  principiation,  I  cannot  affirm  whether  there 
be  any  such  thing  or  not ;  and  I  think  the  chemists 
make  too  much  ado  about  it :  but  howsoever  it  be,  be 
it  solution  or  extraction,  or  a  kind  of  conversion  by 
the  fire ;  it  is  diligently  to  be  inquired  what  salts,  sul- 
phur, vitriol,  mercury,  or  the  like  simple  bodies  are  to 
be  found  in  the  several  metals,  and  in  what  quantity. 

Di\  MevereUs  answers  to  the  foregoing  questions,  touch' 
ing  the  separations  of  metals  and  minerals. 

1 .  FOR  the  means  of  separating.  After  that  the  ore 
Is  washed,  or  cleansed  from  the  earth,  there  is  nothing 
simply  necessary,  save  only  a  wind  furnace  well  fram- 
ed, narrow  above  and  at  the  hearth,  in  shape  oval, 
sufficiently  fed  with  charcoal  and  ore,  in   convenient 

For  additions  in  this  first  separation,  I  have  ob- 
served none  ;  the  dross  the  mineral  brings  being  suf- 
ficient. The  refiners  of  iron  observe,  that  that  iron- 
stone is  hardest  to  melt  which  is  fullest  of  metal,  and 
that  easiest  which  hath  most  dross.  But  in  lead  and 
tin  the  contrary  is  noted.  Yet  in  melting  of  metals, 
when  they  have  been  calcined  formerly  by  fire,  or 
strong  waters,  there  is  good  use  of  additaments,  as 
'of  borax,  tartar,  armoniac,  and  salt-petre. 

2.  In  extracting  of  metals.     Note,  that  lead  and 
tin  contain  silver.  Lead  and  silver  contain  gold.  Iron 
contains  brass.     Silver  is  best  separated  from  lead  by 
the  test.     So  gold  from  silver.     Yet  the  best  way  for 
that  is  aqua  regia* 

3.  For  principiation.  I  can  truly  and  boldly  affirm, 
that-there  are  no  such  principals  as  sal,  sulphur,' and 
mercury,  which  can  be  separated  from  any  perfect 

Physiological  Remains.  20 1 

metals.  For  every  part  so  separated,  may  easily  be 
reduced  into  perfect  metal  without  substitution  of 
that,  or  those  principles  which  chemists  imagine  to  be 
wanting.  As  suppose  you  take  the  salt  of  lead  ;  this 
salt,  or  as  some  name  it,  sulphur,  may  be  turned  into 
perfect  lead,  by  melting  it  with  the  like  quantity 
of  lead  which  contains  principles  only  for  itself. 

I  acknowledge  that  there  is  quicksilver  and  brim- 
stone found  in  the  imperfect  minerals  :  but  those  are 
nature's  remote  materials,  and  not  the  chemist's  prin- 
ciples. As  if  you  dissolve  antimony  by  aqua  rcgia, 
there  will  be  real  brimstone  swimming  upon  the  water: 
as  appears  by  the  colour  of  the  fire  when  it  is  burnt, 
and  by  the  smell. 

.The  third  letter  of  the  cross-row,  touching  the  varia- 
tion of  'metals  into  several  shapes,  bodies  or  natures, 
the  particulars  whereof  follow. 

TINCTURE  :  turning  to  rust :  calcination :  sub- 
limation: precipitation:  amalgamating,  or  turning 
into  a  soft  body  :  vitrification :  opening  or  dissolving 
into  liquor :  sproutings,  or  branchings,  or  arbore- 
scents :  induration  and  mollification :  making  tough 
or  brittle :  volatility  and  fixation  :  transmutation  or 

For  tincture:  it  is  to  be  inquired  how  metal  may 
be  tinged  through  and  through,  and  with  what,  and 
into  what  colours ;  as  tinging  silver  yellow,  tinging 
copper  white,  and  tinging  red,  green,  blue }  especi- 
ally with  keeping  the  lustre. 

Item,  tincture  of  glasses. 

Item,  tincture  of  marble,  flint,  or  other  stone. 

For  turning  into  rust,  two  things  are  chiefly  to  be 
inquired  ;  by  what  corrosives  it  is  done,  and  into 
what  colours  it  turns  ;  as  lead  into  white,  which  they 
call  ceruss  ;  iron  into  yellow,  which  they  call  crocus 
mart  is }  quicksilver  into  vermilion;  brass  into  green, 
which  they  call  verdegrease. 

For  calcination  ;  how  every  metal  is  calcined,  and 
into  what  kind  of  body,  and  what  is  the  exquisitest 
way  of  calcination. 

2O2  Physiological  Remains. 

For  sublimation  ;  to  inquire  the  manner  of  sublim- 
ing, and  what  metals  endure  subliming,  and  what 
body  the  sublimate  makes. 

For  precipitation  likewise ;  by  what  strong  water 
every  metal  will  precipitate,  and  with  what  addita- 
ments,  and  in  what  time,  and  into  what  body. 

So  for  amalgama ;  what  metals  will  endure  it,  what 
are  the  means  to  do  it,  and  what  is  the  manner  of 
the  body. 

For  vitrification  likewise ;  what  metals  will  endure 
it,  what  are  the  means  to  do  it,  into  what  colour  it 
turns ;  and  farther,  where  the  whole  metal  is  turned 
into  glass,  and  where  the  metal  doth  but  hang  in  the 
glassy  parts;  also  what  weight  the  vitrified  body  bears, 
compared  with  the  crude  body  ;  also  because  vitrifica- 
tion is  accounted  a  kind  of  death  of  metals,  what  vi- 
trification will  admit  of  turning  back  again,  and 
*  what  not. 

For  dissolution  into  liquor,  we  are  to  inquire  what 
is  the  proper  menstruum  to  dissolve  any  metal,  and  in 
the  negative,  what  will  touch  upon  the  one  and  not 
upon  the  other,  and  what  several  menstrua  will  dis- 
solve any  metal,  and  which  most  exactly.  Item,  the 
process  or  motion  of  the  dissolution,  the  manner  of 
rising,  boiling,  vapouring  more  violent,  or  more  gentle, 
causing  much  heat  or  less.  Item,  the  quantity  or 
charge  that  the  strong  water  will  bear,  and  then 
give  over.  Item,  the  colour  into  which  the  liquor 
will  turn.  Above  all,  it  is  to  be  inquired,  whe- 
ther there  be  any  menstruum  to  dissolve  any  me- 
tal that  is  not  fretting,  or  corroding ;  and  openeth  the 
body  by  sympathy 3  and  not  by  mordacity  or  violent 

For  sprouting  or  branching,  though  it  be  a  thing 
but  transitory,  and  a  kind  of  toy  or  pleasure,  yet 
.  there  is  a  more  serious  use  of  it ;  for  that  it  discover- 
eth  the  delicate  motions  of  spirits,  when  they  put 
forth  and  cannot  get  forth,  like  unto  that  which  is  in 

For  induration,  or  mollification  ;  it  is  to  be  inquired 
what  will  make  metals  harder  and  harder,  and  what 

Physiological  Remains. 

will  make  them  softer  and  softer.  And  this  inquiry 
tendeth  to  two  ends :  first,  for  use ;  as  to  make  iron  soft 
by  the  fire  makes  it  malleable.  Secondly,  because  in- 
duration is  a  degree  towards  fixation,  and  mollifica- 
tion towards  volatility ;  and  therefore  the  inquiry  of 
them  will  give  light  towards  the  other. 

For  tough  and  brittle,  they  are  much  of  the  same 
kind,  but  yet  worthy  of  an  inquiry  apart,  especially 
to  join  hardness  with  toughness,  as  making  glass  mal- 
leable, etc.  and  making  blades  strong  to  resist  and 
pierce,  and  yet  not  easy  to  break. 

For  volatility  and  fixation.  It  is  a  principal  branch 
to  be  inquired :  the  utmost  degree  of  fixation  is  that 
whereon  no  fire  will  work,  nor  strong  water  joined 
with  fire,  if  there  be  any  such  fixation  possible.  The 
next  is,  when  fire  simply  will  not  work  without  strong 
waters.  The  next  is  by  the  test.  The  next  is  when 
it  will  endure  fire  not  blown,  or  such  a  strength  of  fire. 
The  next  is  when  it  will  not  endure,  but  yet  is  malle- 
able. The  next  is  when  it  is  not  malleable,  but 
yet  is  not  fluent,  but  stupified.  So  of  volatility,  the 
utmost  degree  is  when  it  will  fly  away  without  return- 
ing. The  next  is  when  it  will  fly  up,  but  with  ease 
return.  The  next  is  when  it  will  fly  upwards  over  the 
helm  by  a  kind  of  exsufRation  without  vapouring. 
The  next  is  when  it  will  melt  though  not  rise.  The 
next  is  when  it  will  soften  though  not  melt.  Of  all 
these  diligent  inquiry  is  to  be  made  in  several  metals, 
especially  of  the  more  extreme  degrees. 

For  transmutation  or  version.  If  it  be  real  and  true, 
it  is  the  farthest  part  of  art,  and  should  be  well  distin- 
guished from  extraction,  from  restitution,  and  from 
adulteration.  I  hear  much  of  turning  iron  into  cop- 
per ;  I  hear  also  of  the  growth  of  lead  in  weight, 
which  cannot  be  without  a  conversion  of  some  body 
into  lead :  but  whatsoever  is  of  this  kind,  and  well 
expressed,  is  diligently  to  be  inquired  and  set  down. 

Physiological  Remains. 

Dr.  Merer  el's  answers  to  the  foregoing  questions,  con* 
cerning  the  variation  of  metals  and  minerals. 

1.  FOR  tinctures,  there  are  none  that  I  know,  but 
that  rich  variety  which  springs  from  mixture  of  metals 
with  metals,  or  imperfect  minerals. 

2.  The  imperfect  metals  are  subject  to  rust,  all  of 
them  except  mercury,  which  is  made  into  vermilion 
by  solution  or  calcination.     The  rest  are  rusted   by 
any  salt,  sour,  or  acid  water.    Lead  into  a  white  body 
called  cerussa.     Iron  into  a  pale  red  called  ferrugo. 
Copper  is  turned  into  green,  named  tcrugo.,  <£s  viride. 
Tin  into  white  :  but  this  is  not  in  use,  neither  hath  it 
obtained  a  name. 

The  Scriptures  mention  the  rust  of  gold,  but  that  is 
in  regard  of  the  allay. 

3.  Calcination.     All   metals  may  be   calcined   by 
strong  waters,  or  by  admixtion  of  salt,  sulphur,  and 
mercury.     The  imperfect  metals  may  be  calcined  by 
continuance  of  simple  fire  j  iron  thus  calcined  is  called 
crocus  martis. 

And  this  is  their  best  way.  Gold  and  silver  are 
best  calcined  by  mercury.  Their  colour  is  grey.  Lead 
calcined  is  very  red.  Copper  dusky  red. 

4.  Metals  are  sublimed  by  joining  them  with  mer- 
cury or  salts.     As  silver  with  mercury,  gold  with  sal 
armoniac,  mercury  with  vitriol. 

5.  Precipitation  is,  when  any  metal  being  dissolved 
into  a  strong  water,  is  beaten  down  into  a  powder  by 
salt  water.     The  chiefest  in  this  kind  is  oil  of  tartar. 

6.  Amalgamation  is  the  joining  or  mixing  of  mer- 
cury with  any  Other  of  the   metals.     The  manner  is 
this  in  gold,  the  rest  are  answerable:  take  six  parts  of 
mercury,  make  them  hot  in  a  crucible,  and  pour  them 
to  one  part  of  gold  made  red  hot  in  another  crucible, 
stir  these  well  together  that  they  may  incorporate  ; 
which  clone,  cast  the  mass  into  cold  water  and  wash 
it.     This  is  called  the  amalgama  of  gold. 

7.  For  vitrification.     All  the  imperfect  metals  may 
be  turned  by  strong  fire  into  glass,  except  mercury  ; 
iron  into  green  5  lead  into  yellow  j  brass  into  blue \ 

Physiological  Remains.  205 

tin  into  pale  yellow.  For  gold  and  silver  I  have  not 
know  them  vitrified,  except  joined  with  antimony. 
These  glassy  bodies  may  be  reduced  into  the  form  of 
mineral  bodies. 

8.  Dissolution.  All  metals  without  exception  may 
be  dissolved, 

(1.)  Iron  may  be  dissolved  by  any  tart,  salt,  or  vi- 
triolated  water ;  yea  by  common  water,  if  it  be  first 
calcined  with  sulphur.  It  dissolves  in  aqua  fortis, 
with  great  ebullition  and  heat,  into  a  red  liquor  so  red 
as  blood. 

(2.)  Lead  is  fittest  dissolved  in  vinegar,  into  a  pale 
yellow,  making  the  vinegar  very  sweet. 

(3.)  Tin  is  best  dissolved  with  distilled  salt  water. 
It  retains  the  colour  of  the  menstruum. 

(4.)  Copper  dissolves  as  iron  doth,  in  the  same  li- 
quor, into  a  blue. 

(5.)  Silver  hath  its  proper  menstruum,  which  is  aqua 
fortis,  The  colour  is  green,  with  great  heat  and  ebul- 

(6.)  Gold  is  dissolved  with  aqua  regia,  into  a  yellow 
liquor,  with  little  heat  or  ebullition. 

(7.)  Mercury  is  dissolved  with  much  heat  and  boil- 
ing, into  the  same  liquors  which  gold  and  silver  are. 
It  alters  not  the  colour  of  the  menstruum. 

Note.  Strong  waters  may  be  charged  with  half 
fheir  weight  of  fixed  metals,  and  equal  of  mercury; 
if  the  workman  be  skilful. 

(9.)  Sprouting,  This  is  an  accident  of  dissolution. 
For  if  the  menstruum  be  overcharged,  then  within 
short  time  the  metals  will  shoot  into  certain  crystals. 

(10.)  For  induration  or  mollification,  they  depend 
upon  the  quantity  of  fixed  mercury  and  sulphur.  I  have 
observed  little  of  them,  neither  of  toughness  nor  brit- 

(11.)  The  degrees  of  fixation  and  volatility  I  ac- 
knowledge, except  the  two  utmost,  which  never  were 

(12.)  The  question  of  transmutation  is  very  doubt- 
ful. Wherefore  I  refer  your  honour  to  the  fourth 
tome  olTheatrum  Chymicum:  and  there,  to  that  tract 

206  Physiological  Remains. 

which  is  intitled  Disquisitio  Hcliana;  where  you  shall 
find  full  satisfaction. 

Tfie  fourth  letter  of  the  cross-rozv,  touching  restitution. 

FIRST,  therefore,  it  is  to  be  inquired  in  the  nega- 
tive, what  bodies  will  never  return,  either  by  their 
extreme  fixings,  as  in  some  vitrifications,  or  by  ex- 
treme volatility. 

It  is  also  to  be  inquired  of  the  two  means  of  re- 
duction ;  and  first  by  the  fire,  which  is  but  by  con- 
gregation of  homogeneal  parts. 

The  second  is,  by  drawing  them  down  by  some 
body  that  hath  consent  with  them.  As  iron  draweth 
down  copper  in  water ;  gold  draweth  quicksilver  in 
vapour  ;  whatsoever  is  of  this  kind,  is  very  diligently 
to  be  inquired. 

Also  it  is  to  be  inquired  what  time,  or  age,  will 
reduce  without  help  of  fire  or  body. 

Also  it  is  to  be  inquired  what  gives  impediment  to 
union  or  restitution,  which  is  sometimes  called  mor- 
tification ;  as  when  quicksilver  is  mortified  with  tur- 
pentine, spittle,  or  butter. 

Lastly,  it  is  to  be  inquired,  how  the  metal  restored, 
differeth  in  any  thing  from  the  metal  rare  :  as  whether 
it  become  not  more  churlish,  altered  in  colour,  or 
the  like.. 

Dr.  MevereVs  answers  touching  the  restitutions  of  metals 
and  minerals. 

REDUCTION  is  chiefly  effected  by  fire,  wherein 
if  they  stand  and  nele,  the  imperfect  metals  vapour 
away,  and  so  do  all  manner  of  salts  which  separated 
them  in  minimas  paries  before. 

Reduction  is  singularly  holpen;  by  joining  store  of 
metal  of  the  same  nature  with  it  in  the  melting. 

Metals  reduced  are  somewhat  churlish,  but  not 
altered  in  colour. 

Physiological  Remains, 


Concerning  the  versions,  transmutations,  multiplications f 
and  effections  of  bodies. 

EARTH  by  fire  is  turned  into  brick,  which  is  of 
the  nature  of  a  stone,  and  serveth  for  building,  as 
Stone  doth  :  and  the  like  of  tile.  Query,  the  manner. 

Naphtha,  which  was  the  bituminous  mortar  used  in 
the  walls  of  Babylon,  grows  to  an  intire  and  very 
hard  matter  like  a  stone. 

In  clay  countries,  where  there  is  pebble  and  gravel, 
you  shall  find  great  stones,  where  you  may  see  the 
pebbles  or  gravel,  and  between  them  a  substance  of 
stone  as  hard  or  harder  than  the  pebble  itself, 

There  are  some  springs  of  water,  wherein  if  you  put 
wood,  it  will  turn  into  the  nature  of  stone  :  so  as  that 
within  the  water  shall  be  stone,  and  that  above  the 
water  continue  wood. 

The  slime  about  the  reins  and  bladder  in  a  man's 
body,  turns  into  stone  :  and  stone  is  likewise  found 
often  in  the  gall ;  and  sometimes,  though  rarely,  in 
vena  port  a. 

Query,  what  time  the  substance  of  earth  in  quarries 
asketh  to  be  turned  into  stone  ? 

Water,  as  it  seems,  turneth  into  crystal,  as  is  seen 
jn  divers  qaves,  where  the  crystal  hangs  in  stillicidiis. 

Try  wood,  or  the  stalk  of  herbs,  buried  in  quick- 
silver, whether  it  will  not  grow  hard  and  stony. 

They  speak  of  a  stone  ingendered  in  a  toad's  head^ 

There  was  a  gentleman,  digging  in  his  moat,  found 
an  egg  turned  into  stone,  the  white  and  the  yolk 
keeping  their  colour,  and  the  shell  glistering  like  a 
stone  cut  with  corners. 

Try  some  things  put  into  the  bottom  of  a  well ;  as 
wood,  or  some  soft  substance  :  but  let  it  not  touch 
the  water,  because  it  may  not  putrify. 

They  speak,  that  the  white  of  an  egg,  with  lying 
long  in  the  sun,  will  turn  stone. 

Mud  in  water  turns  into  shells  of  fishes,  as  in 
Jiorse-mussels,  in  fresh  ponds,  old  and  overgrown. 

20S  Physiological  Remains. 

And  the  substance  is  a  wondrous  fine  substance,  light 
and  shining. 

A  SPEECH  touching  the  recovering  of  drowned 
mineral  works. 

Prepared  for  the  parliament  (as  Mr.  Bushel  affirmed) 
by  the.  Viscount  of  St.  Albansy  then  Lord  High  Chan- 
cellor of  England*. 

My  lords  and  gentlemen, 

THE  king,  my  royal  master,  was  lately  graciously 
pleased  to  move  some  discourse  to  me  concerning 
Mr.  Sutton's  hospital,  and  such  like  worthy  founda- 
tions of  memorable  piety :  which  humbly  seconded 
by  myself,  drew  his  majesty  into  a  serious  considera- 
tion of  the  mineral  treasures  of  his  own  territories, 
and  the  practical  discoveries  of  them  by  way  of  my 
philosophical  theory :  which  he  then  so  well  resented, 
that  afterwards,  upon  a  mature  digestion  of  my  whole 
design,  he  commanded  me  to  let  your  lordships  under- 
stand, how  great  an  inclination  he  hath  to  further 
so  hopeful  a  work,  for  the  honour  of  his  dominions, 
as  the  most  probable  means  to  relieve  all  the  poor 
thereof,  without  any  other  stock  or  benevolence,  than 
that  which  divine  bounty  should  confer  on  their  own 
industries  and  honest  labours,  in  recovering  all  such 
drowned  mineral  works,  as  have  been,  or  shall  be 
therefore  deserted. 

And,  my  lords,  all  that  is  now  desired  of  his  ma- 
jesty and  your  lordships,  is  no  more  than  a  gracious 
act  of  this  present  parliament  to  authorise  them  herein, 
adding  a  mercy  to  a  munificence,  which  is,  the  per- 
sons of  such  strong  and  able  petty-felons,  who,  in 
true  penitence  for  their  crimes,  shall  implore  his  ma- 
jesty's mercy  and  permission  to  expiate  their  offences 
by  their  assiduous  labours  in  so  innocent  and  hopeful 
a  work. 

For  by  this  unchangeable  way,  my  lords,  have  I 
proposed  to  erect  the  academical  fabric  of  this  island's 

*  Sec  Mr.  Bee's  extract,  p.  18,  19. 

Physiological  Remains.  2C9 

Solomon's  House,  modelled  in  my  new  Atlantis.  And 
I  can  hope,  my  lords,  that  my  midnight  studies,  to 
make  our  countries  flourish  and  outvie  European 
neighbours  in  mysterious  and  beneficent  arts,  have 
not  so  ungratefully  affected  your  noble  intellects,  that 
you  will  delay  or  resist  his  majesty's  desires,  and  my 
humble  petition  in  this  benevolent,  yea,  magnificent 
affair ;  since  your  honourable  posterities  may  be  en- 
riched thereby,  and  my  ends  are  only  to  make  the 
world  my  heir,  and  the  learned  fathers  of  my  Solo- 
mon's House,  the  successive  and  sworn  trustees  in  the 
dispensation  of  this  great  service,  for  God's  glory,  my 
prince's  magnificence,  this  parliament's  honour,  our 
country's  general  good,  and  the  propagation  of  my 
own  memory. 

And  I  may  assure  your  lordships,  that  all  my  pro- 
posals in  order  to  this  great  architype,  seemed  so  ra- 
tional and  feasible  to  my  royal  sovereign,  our  Christian 
Solomon,  that  I  thereby  prevailed  with  his  majesty  to 
call  this  honourable  parliament,  to  confirm  and  im- 
power  me  in  my  own  way  of  mining,  by  an  act  of 
the  same,  after  his  majesty's  more  weighty  affairs 
were  considered  in  your  wisdoms  ;  both  which  he 
desires  your  lordships,  and  you  gentlemen  that  are 
chosen  as  the  patriots  of  your  respective  countries, 
to  take  speedy  care  of:  which  done,  I  shall  not  then 
doubt  the  happy  issue  of  my  undertakings  in  this  de- 
sign, whereby  concealed  treasures,  which  now  seem 
utterly  lost  to  mankind,  shall  be  confined  to  so  uni- 
versal a  piety,  and  brought  into  use  by  the  industry  of 
converted  penitents,  whose  wretched  carcases  the  im- 
partial laws  have,  or  shall  dedicate,  as  untimely  feasts, 
to  the  worms  of  the  earth,  in  whose  womb  those  de- 
serted mineral  riches  must  ever  lie  buried  as  lost 
abortments,  unless  those  be  made  the  active,  midwives 
to  deliver  them.  For,  my  lords,  I  humbly  conceive 
them  to  be  the  fittest  of  all  men  to  effect  this  great 
work,  for  the  ends  and  causes  which  I  have  before 

All  which,  my  lords,  I  humbly  refer  to  your  grave 
and  solid  judgments  to  conclude  of;   together  with 

VOL.  II.  P 

2 1 0  Physiological  Remains. 

such  other  assistances  to  this  frame,  as  your  own 
oraculous  wisdom  shall  intimate,  for  the  magnifying 
our  Creator  in  his  inscrutable  providence,  and  ad- 
mirable works  of  nature. 

Certain  experiments  made  by  the  Lord  BACON  about 
weight  in  air  and  water. 

A  NEW  sovereign  of  equal  weight  in  the  air  to 
the  piece  in  brass,  overweigheth  in  the  water  nine 
grains :  in  three  sovereigns  the  difference  in  the 
water  is  but  twenty-four  grains. 

The  same  sovereign  overweigheth  an  equal  weight 
of  lead,  four  grains  in  the  water  :  in  brass  grains  for 
gold  :  in  three  sovereigns  about  eleven  grains. 

The  same  sovereign  overweigheth  an  equal  weight 
of  stones  in  the  air,  at  least  sixty-five  grains  in  the 
water;  the  grains  being  for  the  weight  of  gold  in 
brass  metal. 

A  glass  filled  with  water  weighing,  in  Troy  weights, 
thirteen  ounces  and  five  drams,  the  glass  and  the  water 
together  weigheth  severally,  namely,  the  water  nine 
ounces  and  a  half,  and  the  glass  four  ounces  and  a 

A  bladder  weighing  two  ounces  seven  drams  and 
a  half,  a  pebble  laid  upon  the  top  of  the  bladder 
makes  three  ounces  six  drams  and  a  half,  the  stone 
weigheth  seven  drams. 

The  bladder  as  above,  blown,  and  the  same  fallen, 
weigheth  equal. 

A  sponge  dry  weigheth  one  ounce  twenty-six 
grains  :  the  same  sponge  being  wet,  weigheth  four- 
teen ounces  six  drams  and  three  quarters :  the  water 
weigheth  in  several  eleven  ounces  one  dram  and  a 
half,  and  the  sponge  three  ounces  and  a  half,  and 
three  quarters  of  a  dram.  First  time. 

The  sponge  and  water  together  weigh  fifteen  ounces 
and  seven  drams  :  in  several,  the  water  weigheth 
eleven  ounces  and  seven  drams,  and  the  sponge  three 
ounces  seven  drams  and  a  half.  Second  time. 

Three  sovereigns  made  equal  to  a  weight  in  silver 
in  the  air,  differ  in  the  water. 

Physiological  Remains.  2 1 1 

For  false  weights,  one  beam  long,  the  other  thick. 

The  stick  and  thread  weigh  half  a  dram,  and 
twenty  grains,  being  laid  in  the  balance. 

The  stick  tied  to  reach  within  half  an  inch  of  the 
end  of  the  beam,  and  so  much  from  the  tongue, 
weigheth  twenty-eight  grains  ;  the  difference  Is 
twenty-two  grains. 

The  same  stick  being  tied  to  hang  over  the  end  of 
the  beam  an  inch  and  a  half,  weigheth  half  a  dram 
and  twenty-four  grains,  exceeding  the  weight  of  the 
said  stick  in  the  balance  by  four  grains. 

The  same  stick  being  hanged  down  beneath  the 
thread,  as  near  the  tongue  as  is  possible,  weigheth 
only  eight  grains. 

Two  weights  of  gold  being  made  equal  in  the  air,^ 
and  weighing  severally  seven  drams;  the  one  balance 
being  put  into  the  water,  and  the  other  hanging  in 
the  air,  the  balance  in  the  water  weigheth  only  five 
drams  and  three  grains,  and  abateth  of  the  weight  in 
the  air,  one  dram  and  a  Jialf,  and  twenty-seven 

The  same  trial  being  made  the  second  time,  and 
more  truly  and  exactly  betwixt  gold  and  gold,  weigh- 
ing severally,  as  above  ;  and  making  a  just  and  equal 
weight  in  the  air,  the  one  balance  being  put  into  the 
water  the  depth  of  five  inches,  and  the  other  hanging 
in  the  air,  the  balance  in  the  water  weigheth  only 
four  drams,  and  fifty-five  grains,  and  abateth  of  the 
weight  in  the  air  two  drams  and  five  grains. 

The  trial  being  made  betwixt  lead  and  lead,  weigh- 
ing severally  seven  drams  in  the  air,  the  balance  in  the 
water  weigheth  only  four  drams  and  forty-one  grains, 
and  abateth  of  the  weight  in  the  air  two  drams  and 
nineteen  grains;  the  balance  kept  the  same  depth  in 
the  water  as  abovesaid. 

The  trial  being  made  betwixt  silver  and  silver, 
weighing  severally  seven  drams  in  the  air,  the  balance 
in  the  water  weigheth  only  four  drams  and  twenty- 
five  grains.  So  it  abateth  two  drams  and  thirty-five 
grains  ;  the  same  depth  in  the  water  observed. 

Jn  iron  and  iron,  weighing  severally  each  balance  in 
p  2 

2 1 2  Physiological  Remains. 

the  air  seven  drams,  the  balance  in  the  water  weigh- 
eth  only  four  drams  and  eighteen  grains ;  and  abateth 
of  the  weight  in  the  air  two  drams  and  forty-two 
grains ;  the  depth  observe  as  above. 

In  stone  and  stone,  the  same  weight  of  seven 
drams  equally  in  the  air,  the  balance  in  the  water 
weigheth  only  two  drams  and  twenty-two  grains; 
and  abateth  of  the  weight  in  the  air  four  drams  and 
thirty-eight  grains  ;  the  depth  as  above. 

In  brass  and  brass,  the  same  weight  of  seven  drams 
in  each  balance,  equal  in.  the  air,  the  balance  in  the 
water  weigheth  only  four  drams  and  twenty-two 
grains;  and  abateth  in  the  water  two  drams  and 
thirty-eight  grains ;  the  depth  observed. 
r  The  two  balances  being  weighed  in  air  and  water, 
the  balance  in  the  air  over-weigheth  the  other  in  the 
water  one  dram  and  twenty-eight  grains ;  the  depth 
in  the  water  as  aforesaid. 

It  is  a  profitable  experiment  which  sheweth  the 
weights  of  several  bodies  in  comparison  with  water. 
It  is  of  use  in  lading  of  ships,  and  other  bottoms,  and 
may  help  to  shew  what  burden  in  the  several  kinds 
they  will  bear. 

Certain  sudden  thoughts  of  the  Lord  BACON'.*-,  set 
down  by  him  under  the  title  of  EXPERIMENTS  FOR 

MUCK  of  leaves:  muck  of  river,  earth,  and 
chalk  :  muck  of  earth  closed,  'both  for  salt-petre  and 
muck:  setting  of  wheat  and  peas:  mending  of  crops 
by  steeping  of  seeds :  making  peas,  cherries,  and 
strawberries  come  early :  strengthening  of  earth  for 
often  returns  of  radishes,  parsnips,  turnips,  etc.  mak- 
ing great  roots  of  onions,  radishes,  and  other  esculent 
roots:  sowing  of  seeds  of  trefoil:  setting  of  woad  : 
setting  of  tobacco,  and  taking  away  the  rawns  :  graft- 
ing upon  boughs  of  old  trees:  making  of  a  hasty  cop- 
pice :  planting  of  osiers  in  wet  grounds:  making  of 
candles  to  last  long:  building  of  chimnies,  furnaces, 
and  ovens,  to  give  heat  with  less  wood  :  fixing  of  log- 
wood :  other  means  to  make  yellow  and  green  fixed: 

Physiological  Remains.  2 1 3 

conserving  of  oranges,  lemons,  citrons,  pomegranates, 
etc.  all  summer :  recovering  of  pearl,  coral,  turcoise 
colour,  by  a  conservatory  ot  snow  :  sowing  of  fennel : 
brewing  with  hay,  haws,  trefoil,  broom,  hips,  bramble 
berries,  woodbines,  wild  thyme,  instead  of  hops,  this- 
tles :  multiplying  and  dressing  artichokes. 

Certain  experiments  of  the  Lord  BACON  's,  about  the  com- 
mixture of  liquors  only,  not  solids,  without  heat  or. 
agitation,  but  only  by  simple  composition  and  settling. 

SPIRIT  of  wine  mingled  with  common  water, 
although  it  be  rovich  lighter  than  oil,  yet  so  as  if  the 
first  fall  be  broken,  by  means  of  a  sop,  or  otherwise, 
it  stayeth  above  j  and*if  it  be  once  mingled  it  severeth 
not  again,  as  oil  doth.  Tried  with  water  coloured 
with  saffron. 

Spirit  of  wine  mingled  with  common  water  hath  a 
kind  of  clouding,  and  motion  shewing  no  ready  com- 
mixture. Tried  with  saffron. 

A  dram  of  gold  dissolved  in  aqua  regis,  with  a  dram 
of  copper  in  aquafortis,  commixed,  gave  agreeh  co- 
lour, but  no  visible  motion  in  the  parts.  Note,  that 
the  dissolution  of  the  gold  was,  twelve  parts  water  to 
one  part  body :  and  of  the  copper  was,  six  parts  wa- 
ter to  one  part  body. 

Oil  of  almonds  commixed  with  spirit  of  wine,  se- 
vereth, and  the  spirit  of  wine  remaineth  on  the  top, 
and  the  oil  at  the  bottom. 

Gold  dissolved,  commixed  with  spirit  of  wine,  a 
dram  of  each,  doth  commix,  and  no  other  apparent 

Quick-silver  dissolved  with  gold  dissolved,  a  dram 
of  each,  doth  turn  to  a  mouldy  liquor,  black,  and  like 
smiths  water. 

Note,  the  dissolution  of  the  gold  was  twelve  parts 
water  ut  supra,  and  one  part  metal ;  that  of  water  was 
two  parts,  and  one  part  metal. 

Spirit  of  wine  and  quick-silver  commixed,  a  dram 
of  each,  at  the  first  shewed  a  white  milky  substance  a£ 
the  top,  but  soon  after  mingled. 

Oil  of  vitriol  commixed  with  oil  of  cloves,  a  dram 

214-  Physiological  Be  ma  his. 

of  each,  turneth  into  a  red  dark  colour;  and  a  sub- 
stance thick  almost  like  pitch,  and  upon  the  first  mo- 
tion gathereth  an  extreme  heat,  not  to  be  endured  by- 

Dissolution  of  gold,  and  oil  of  vitriol  commixed,  a 
dram  of  each,  gathereth  a  great  heat  at  the  first,  and 
darkeneth  the  gold,  and  maketh  a  thick  yellow. 

Spirit  of  wine  and  oil  of  vitriol,  a  dram  of  each, 
hardly  mingle;  the  oil  of  vitriol  going  to  the  bottom, 
and  the  spirit  of  wine  lying  above  in  a  milky  sub- 
stance. It  gathereth  also  a  great  heat,  and  a  sweet> 
ness  in  the  taste. 

Oil  of  vitriol  and  dissolution  of  quick-silver,  a  dram 
pf  each,  maketh  an  extreme  strife,  and  casteth  up  a 
very  gross  fume,  and  after  casteth  down  a  white  kind 
of  curds,  or  sands;  and  on  the  top  a  slimish  substance, 
and  gathereth  a  great  heat, 

Oil  of  sulphur  and  oil  of  cloves  commixed,  a  dram 
of  each,  turn  into  a  thick  and  red-coloured  substance  ; 
but  no  such  heat  as  appeared  in  the  commixture  with 
the  oil  of  vitriol. 

Oil  of  petroleum,  and  spirit  of  wine,  a  dram  of 
each,  intermingled  otherwise  than  by  agitation,  as 
wine  and  water  do  ;  and  the  petroleum  remaineth  oil 
the  top, 

Oil  of  vitriol  and  petroleum,  a  dram  of  each,  turn 
into  a  mouldy  substance,  and  gathereth  some  warmth; 
there  residing  a  black  cloud  at  the  bottom,  and  a 
monstrous  thick  oil  on  the  top. 

Spirit  of  wine  and  red-wine  vinegar,  one  ounce 
of  each,  at  the  first  fall,  one  of  them  remaineth  above, 
but  by  agitation  they  mingle. 

Oil  of  vitriol  and  oil  of  almonds,  one  ounce  of  each, 
mingle  not;  but  the  oil  of  almonds  remaineth  above. 

Spirit  of  wine  and  vinegar,  an  ounce  of  each,  com- 
mixed, do  mingle,  without  any  apparent  separation, 
which  might  be  in  respect  of  the  colour. 

Dissolution  of  iron,  and  oil  of  vitriol,  a  dram  of 
each,  do  first  put  a  milky  substance  into  the  bottom, 
and  after  incorporate  into  a  mouldy  substance. 

Spirit  of  wine  commixed  with  milk,  a  third  part 

Physiological  Remains.  215 

spirit  of  wine,  and  two  parts  milk,  coagulateth  little, 
but  mingleth  ;  and  the  spirit  swims  not  above. 

Milk  and  oil  of  almonds  mingled,  in  equal  portions, 
do  hardly  incorporate,  but  the  oil  cometh  above,  the 
milk  being  poured  in  last ;  and  the  milk  appeareth  in 
some  drops  or  bubbles. 

Milk  one  ounce,  oil  of  vitriol  a  scruple,  doth  coa- 
gulate 5  the  milk  at  the  bottom,  where  the  vitriol 

Dissolution  of  gum  tragacanth,  and  oil  of  sweet  al- 
monds, do  not  commingle,  the  oil  remaining  on  the 
top  till  they  be  stirred,  and  make  the  mucilage  some- 
what more  liquid. 

Dissolution  of  gum  tragacanth  one  ounce  and  a 
half,  with  half  an  ounce  of  spirit  of  wine  being  com- 
mixed by  agitation,  make  the  mucilage  more  thick. 

The  white  of  an  egg  with  spirit  of  wine,  doth  bake 
the  egg  into  clots,  as  if  it  began  to  poch. 

One  ounce  of  blood,  one  ounce  of  milk,  do  easily 

Spirit  of  wine  doth  curdle  the  blood. 

One  ounce  of  whey  unclarified,  one  ounce  of  oil  of 
vitriol,  make  no  apparent  alteration. 

One  ounce  of  blood,  one  ounce  of  oil  of  almonds, 
incorporate  not,  but  the  oil  swims  above. 

Three  quarters  of  an  ounce  of  wax  being  dissolved 
upon  the  fire,  and  an  ounce  of  oil  of  almonds  put  to- 
gether and  stirred,  do  n«t  so  incorporate,  but  that 
when  it  is  cold  the  wax  gatliereth  and  swims  upon  the 
top  of  the  oil. 

One  ounce  of  oil  of  almonds  cast  into  an  ounce  of 
sugar  seething,  sever  presently,  the  sugar  shooting 
towards  the  bottom. 

A  catalogue  of  bodies,  attractive  and  not  attractive,  to- 
gether with  experimental  observations  about  attrac- 

THESE  following  bodies  draw:  amber,  jet,  dia- 
mond, sapphire,  carbuncle,  irjs,  the  gem  opale,  ame- 
thyst, bristollina,  crystal,  clear  glass,  glass  of  antimony, 
divers  flowers  from  mines,  sulphur,  mastic,  hard  seal- 
ing-wax, the  harder  rosin,  arsenic. 

21 6  Physiological  Remains. 

These  following  bodies  do  not  draw:  smaragd, 
achafes,  corneolus,  pearl  jaspis,  chalcedonius,  alabaster, 
porphyry,  coral,  marble,  touchstone,  hematites,  or 
bloodstone ;  smyris,  ivory,  bones,  ebon-tree,  cedar, 
cypress,  pitch,  softer  rosin,  camphire,  galbanum,  am* 
moniac,  storax,  benzoin,  loadstone,  asphaltum*. 

These  bodies,  gold,  silver,  brass,  iron,  draw  not, 
though  never  so  finely  polished. 

In  winter,  if  the  air  be  sharp  and  clear,  sal  gem- 
ineum,  roch  allum,  and  lapis  specularis,  will  draw. 

These  following  bodies  are  apt  to  be  drawn,  if  the 
mass  of  them  be  small :  chaff,  woods,  leaves,  stones, 
all  metals  leaved,  and  in  the  mine  -3  earth,  water,  oiK 

*  The  drawing  of  iron  excepted. 


Grains  of  youth. 

1  AKE  of  nitre  four  grains,  of  ambergrease  three 
grains,  of  orris-powder  two  grains,  of  white  poppy- 
seed  the  fourth  part  of  a  grain,  of  saffron  half  a  grain, 
with  water  of  orange-flowers,  and  a  little  tragacanth  ; 
make  them  into  small  grains,  four  in  number.  To 
be  taken  at  four  a-clock,  or  going  to  bed. 

Preserving  ointments'. 

TAKEofdeers  suet  one  ounce,  of  myrrh  six  grains, 
of  saffron  five  grains,  of  bay-salt  twelve  grains,  of  Ca- 
nary wine,  of  two  years  old,  a  spoonful  and  a  half. 
Spread  it  on  the  inside  of  your  shirt,  and  let  it  dry,  and 
then  put  it  on. 

A  purge  familiar  for  opening  the  liver. 

TAKE  rhubarb  two  drams,  agaric  trochiscat  one  dram 
and  a  half,  steep  them  in  claret  wine  burnt  with 
mace  ;  take  of  wormwood  one  dram,  steep  it  with 
the  rest,  and  make  a  mass  of  pills,  with  syrup,  acetos. 
simplex.  But  drink  an  opening  broth  before  it,  with 
succory,  fennel,  and  smallage  roots.,  and  a  little  of  an 

Wine  for  the  spirits. 

TAKE  gold  perfectly  refined  three  ounces,  quench 
it  six  or  seven  times  in  good  claret  wine  -y  add  of  nitre 
six  grains  for  two  draughts :  add  of  saffron  prepared 
three  grains,  of  ambergrease  four  grains,  pass  it  through 
an  hyppocras  bag,  wherein  there  is  a  dram  of  cinna- 
namon  gross  beaten,  or,  to  avoid  the  dimming  of  the 
colour,  of  ginger.  Take  two  spoonfuls  of  this  to  a 
draught  of  fresh  claret  wine. 

218  Medical  Remains. 

The  preparing  of  saffron. 

TAKE  six  grains  of  saffron,  steeped  in  half  parts  of 
wine  and  rose  water,  and  a  quarter  part  vinegar  :  then 
dry  it  in  the  sun. 

Wine  against  adverse  melancholy,  preserving  the  sense* 

ami  the  reason. 

TAKE  the  roots  of  buglos  well  scraped  and  cleansed 
from  their  inner  pith,  and  cut  them  into  small  slices; 
steep  them  in  wine  of  gold  extinguished  ut  supra,  and 
add  of  nitre  three  grains,  and  drink  it  ut  supra,  mixed 
with  fresh  wine  :  the  roots  must  not  continue  steeped 
above  a  quarter  of  an  hour;  and  they  must  be  chang- 
ed thrice. 

Breakfast  preservative  against  the  gout  and  rheums. 

To  take  once  in  the  month  at  least,  and  for  two 
days  together,  one  grain  of  castorei  in  my  ordinary 

The  preparation  ofgarlick. 

TAKE  garlick  four  ounces,  boil  it  upon  a  soft  fire  in 
claret  wine,  for  half  an  hour.  Take  it  out  and  steep 
it  in  vinegar;  whereto  add  two  drams  of  cloves,  then 
take  it  forth,  and  keep  it  in  a  glass  for  use. 

The  artificial  preparation  of  damask  roses  for  smell, 

TAKE  roses,  pull  their  leaves,  then  dry  them  in  a 
clear  day  in  the  hot  sun :  then  their  smell  will  be  as 
gone.  Then  cram  them  into  an  earthen  bottle,  very 
dry  and  sweet,  and  stop  it  very  close;  they  will  re- 
main in  smell  and  colour  both  fresher,  than  those  that 
are  otherwise  dried.  Note,  the  first  drying,  and  close 
keeping  upon  it,  preventeth  all  putrefaction,  and 
the  second  spirit  cometh  forth,  made  of  the  remaining 
moisture  not  dissipated. 

A  restorative  drink. 

TAKE  of  Indian  maiz  half  a  pound,  grind  it  not 
too  small,  but  to  the  fineness  of  ordinary  meal,  and 

Medical  Ecm  a  Ins.  2 1 9 

then  bolt  and  scarce  it,  that  all  the  husky  part  may  be 
taken  away.  Take  of  enjngium  roots  three  ounces, 
of  dates  as  much,  of  cnula,  two  drams,  of  mace  three 
drams,  and  brew  them  with  ten  shilling  beer  to  the 
quantity  of  four  gallons :  and  this  do,  either  by  de- 
cocting them  in  a  pottle  of  wort,  to  be  after  mingled 
with  the  beer,  being  new  tapped,  or  otherwise  infuse 
it  in  the  new  beer,  in  a  bag.  Use  this  familiarly  at 

Against  the  waste  of  the  body  by  heat. 

TAKE  sweet  pomegranates,  and  strain  them  lightly, 
not  pressing  the  kernel,  into  a  glass ;  where  put  some 
little  of  the  peel  of  a  citron,  and  two  or  three  cloves, 
and  three  grains  of  ambergrease,  and  a  pretty  deal  of 
fine  sugar.  It  is  to  be  drunk  every  morning  whilst 
•pomegranates  Jast. 

Methusalem  water.  Against  all  asperity  and  torref ac- 
tion of  inward  parts,  and  all  adustion  of  the  blood, 
and  generally  against  the  driness  of  age. 

TAKE  crevises  very  new,  q.  s.  boil  them  well  in 
claret  wine,  of  them  take  only  the  shells,  and  rub 
them  very  clean,  especially  on  the  inside,  that  they 
may  be  thoroughly  cleansed  from  the  meat.  Then 
wrash  them  three  or  four  times  in  fresh  claret  wine, 
heated  :  still  changing  the  wine,  till  all  the  fish-taste 
be  quite  taken  away.  But  in  the  wine  wherein  they 
are  washed,  steep  some  tops  of  green  rosemary  ;  then 
dry  the  pure  shell  thoroughly,  and  bring  them  to  an 
exquisite  powder.  Of  this  powder  take  three  drams. 
Take  also  pearl,  and  steep  them  in  vinegar  twelve 
hours,  and  dry  off  the  vinegar  j  of  this  powder  also  three 
drams.  Then  put  the  shell  powder  and  pearl  powder 
together,  and  add  to  them  of  ginger  one  scruple,  and 
of  white  poppy  seed  half  a  scruple,  and  steep  them 
in  spirit  of  wine,  wherein  six  grains  of  saffron  have 
been  dissolved  seven  hours.  Then  upon  a  gentle 
heat  vapour  away  all  the  spirit  of  wine,  and  dry  the 
powder  against  the  sun  without  fire.  Add  to  it  of 
nitre  one  dram,  of  ambergrease  one  scruple  and  a  half$ 

22O  Medical  Remains. 

and  so  keep  this  powder  for  use  in  a  clean  glass. 
Then  take  a  pottle  of  milk,  and  slice  in  it  of  fresh 
cucumbers,  the  inner  pith  only,  the  rind  being  parecj 
off,  four  ounces,  and  draw  forth  a  water  by  distilla- 
tion. Take  of  claret  wine  a  pint,  and  quench  gold 
in  it  four  times. 

Of  the  wine,  and  of  the  water  of  milk,  take  of  each 
three  ounces,  of  the  powder  one  scruple,  and  drink 
it  in  the  morning  ;  stir  up  the  powder  when  you 
drink,  and  walk  upon  it. 

A  catalogue  of  astringents,  openers,  and  cordials 
instrumental  to  health. 


RED  rose,  black-berry,  myrtle,  plantane,  flower 
of  pomegranate,  mint,  aloes  well  washed,  myroba- 
Janes,  sloes,  agrestia  fraga,  mastich,  myrrh,  saffron, 
leaves  of  rosemary,  rhubarb  received  by  infusion, 
cloves,  service-berries,  corna,  wormwood,  bole  ar- 
moniac,  sealed  earth,  cinquefoil,  tincture  of  steel, 
sanguis  draconis,  coral,  amber,  quinces,  spikenard, 
galls,  alum,  blood-stone,  mummy,  amomiim,  galaiv 
gal,  cypress,  ivy,  psyllum,  housleek,  sallow,  rnul- 
Jein,  vine,  oak-leaves,  lignum  aloes,  red  sanders,  mul- 
berry, medlars,  flowers  of  peach-trees,  pomegranates, 
pears,  palmule,  pith  of  kernels,  purslain,  acacia, 
laudanum.,  tragacanth,  thus  olibani,  comfrey,  shep- 
herd's purse,  polygonium. 

Astringents,  both  hot  and  cold,  which  corroborate  the 
parts,  and  which  confirm  and  refresh  such  of  them 
as  are  loose  or  languishing. 

ROSEMARY,  mint,  especially  with  vinegar,  cloves, 
cinnamon,  cardamum,  lign-aloes,  rose,  myrtle,  red 
sanders,  cotonea,  red  wine,  chalybeat  wine,  five-finger 
grass,  plantane,  apples  of  cypress,  berberries,  fraga, 
service  berries,  cornels,  ribes,  sour  pears,  rambesia. 

Medical  Remains.  £>2 1 

Astringents  styptic,  which  by  their  styptic  virtue  may 
stay  Jinxes. 

SLOES,  acacia,  rind  of  pomegranates  infused  at 
least  three  hours,  the  styptic  virtue  not  coming  forth 
in  lesser  time.  Alum,  galls,  juice  of  sallow,  syrup 
of  unripe  quinces,  balaustia,  the  whites  of  eggs  boiled 
hard  in  vinegar. 

Astringents,    which  by   their  cold  and    earthy   nature 
may  stay  the  motion  of  the  humours  tending  to  a  Jinx. 

SEALED  earth,  sanguis  draconis,  coral,  pearls,  the 
shell  of  the  fish  dactylus. 

Astringents,  which  by  the  thickness  of  their  substance  stuff 
as  it  were  the  thin  humours,  and  thereby  stay  jinxes. 

RICE,  beans,  millet,  cauls,  dry  cheese,  fresh  goat's 

Astringents,  which  by  virtue  of  their  glutinous  substance 

restrain  ajlux,  and  strengthen  the  looser  parts. 
KARABE*,   mastich,    spodium,   hartshorn,  frankin- 
cense, dried  bulls  pistle,  gum  tragacanth. 

Astringents  purgative,  which,  having  by  their  purga- 
tive or  expulsive  power  thrust  out  the  humours, 
leave  behind  them  astrictive  virtue. 

RHUBARB,  especially  that  which  is  toasted  against 
the  fire  -,  myrobalanes,  tartar,  tamarinds,  an  Indian 
fruit  like  green  damascenes. 

Astringents  which  do  very  much  suck  and  dry  up  the  hu- 
mours, and  thereby  stay  jinxes. 
RUST  of  iron,  crocus  martis,  ashes  of  spices. 

Astringents,  which  by  their  nature  do  dull  the  spirits, 
and  lay  asleep  the  expulsive  virtue,  and  take  away  the 
acrimony  of  all  humours. 

LAUDANUM,  mithridate,  diascordium,  diacodium. 
*  Perhaps  lie  meant  the  fruit  of  Karobe. 

222  Medical  Remain?. 

Astringents,  which    by  cherishing  the  strength  of  the 
parts,  do  comfort  and  confirm  their  retentive  flower. 

A  stomacher  of  scarlet  cloth:  whelps,  or  young 
healthy  boys,  applied  to  the  stomach  :  hippocratic 
wines,  so  they  be  made  of  austere  materials. 


SUCCORY,  endive,  betony,  liverwort,  pctroseiimint, 
smallage,  -asparagus,  roots  of  grass,  dodder,  tama- 
risk, juncus  odoratus,  lacca,  cupparus,  wormwood, 
cham<epit.ys,fumaria,  scurvy-grass,  eringo,  nettle,  ireos9 
alder,  hyssop,  arist6l6chiat  gentian,  costus,  fennel-root, 
maiden-hair,  harts-tongue,  daffodilly,  asarum,  sarsa"- 
parilla,  sassafras,  acorns,  abretonum,  aloes,  agaric, 
rhubarb  infused,  onions,  garlic,  bother,  squilta,  sow- 
bread, Indian  nard,  Celtic  nard,  bark  of  laurel-tree, 
bitter  almonds,  holy  thistle,  camomile,  gun-powder, 
sows  (millepedes)  ammoniac,  mans  urine,  rue,  park 
leaves,  (vitex)  centaury,  lupines,  chumxdrys,  costum, 
ammios,  bistort,  camphire,  daucus  seed,  Indian  bal- 
sam, scordium,  sweet  cane,  galingal,  agrimony, 


FLOWERS  of  basil  royal,  fiores  caryophillati,  flowers 
of  bugloss  and  borage,  rind  of  citron,  orange  flowers, 
rosemary  and  its  flowers,  saffron,  musk,  amber, folium, 
i.  e.  nardi folium,  balm  gentle,  pimpernel,  gems,  gold, 
generous  wines,  fragrant  apples,  rose,  rosa  moschata, 
cloves,  lign-aloes,  mace,  cinnamon,  nutmeg,  carda- 
mum,  galingal.  vinegar,  kermes  berry,  herb  a  moschata, 
betony,  white  -sanders,  camphire,  flowers  of  helio- 
trope, penny-royal,  scordium,  opium  corrected,  white 
pepper,  nasturtium,  white  and  red  bean,  cast  urn  duke, 
daclylus,  pine,  fig,  egg-shell,  vinum  tnalralicum, ginger, 
kidneys,  oisters,  crevises,  or  river  crabs,  seed  of  nettle, 
oil  of  sweet  almonds,  sesaminum  oleum,  asparagus,  bul- 
bous roots,  onions,  garlic,  eruca,  daucus  seed,  eringo, 
sifermontdnus,  the  smell  of  musk,  cynethi  odor,  caraway 
seed,  flower  of  puls,  aniseed,  pellitory,  anointing  of 
the  testicles  with  oil  of  alder  in  which  pellitory  hath 
been  boiled,  cloves  with  goats  milk,  olibamun. 

Medical  Remains.  223 

An  extract  by  the  Lord  BACON,  for  his  own  use,  out  of 
the  book  Of  the  prolongation  of  life,  together  with 
some  new  advices  in  order  to  health. 

1.  ONCE  in  the  week,  or  at  least  in  the  fortnight, 
to  take  the  water  of  mithridate  distilled,  with  three 
parts  to  one,  or  strawberry-water  to  allay  it ;  and  some 
grains  of  nitre   and   saffron,  in  the  morning  between 

2.  To  continue  my  broth  with  nitre;  but  to  inter- 
change it    every  other  two  days,   with  the  juice  of 
pomegranates  expressed,  with  a  little  cloves,  and  rind 
of  citron. 

3.  To  order  the  taking  of  the  maceration*  as  fol- 
io we  th. 

To  add  to  the  maceration  six  grains  of  cremor  tar- 
tari,  and  as  much  enula. 

To  add  to  the  oxymel  some  infusion  of  fennel-roots 
in  the  vinegar,  and  four  grains  of  angelica-seed,  and 
juice  of  lemons,  a  third  part  to  the  vinegar. 

To  take  it  not  so  immediately  before  supper,  and  to 
have  the  broth  specially  made  with  barley,  rosemary, 
thyme,  and  cresses. 

SOMETIMES  to  add  to  the  maceration  three  grains  of 
tartar,  and  two  of  enula,  to  cut  the  more  heavy  and 
viscous  humours  -,  lest  rhubarb  work  only  upon  the 

To  take  sometimes  the  oxymel  before  it,  and  some- 
times the  Spanish  honey  simple. 

4.  To  take  once  in  the  month  at  least,  and  for  two 
days  together,  a  grain  and   a  half  of  castor    in  my 
broth,  and  breakfast. 

5.  A  cooling  clyster  to  be  used  once  a  month,  after 
the  working  of  the  maceration  is  settled. 

TAKE  of  barley-water,  in  which  the  roots  of  burgloss 
are  boiled,  three  ounces,  with  two  drams  of  red  san- 
ders,  and  two  ounces  of  raisins  of  the  sun,  and  one 
ounce  ofdactyles,  and  an  ounce  and  a  half  of  fat  ca- 

*  Viz.  Of  rhubarb  infused  into  a  draught  of  white  wim'  and  beer, 
mingled  together,  for  the  space  of  half  an  hour,  once  in  six  of  seven 
days.  See  the  Lord  Bacon's  Life,  by  Dr.  Rawiey,  towards  the  end. 

224-  Medical  Remain*. 

ricks;  let  it  be  strained,  and  add  to  it  an  ounce  and  a 
half  of  syrup  of  violets :  let  a  clyster  be  made.  Let  this 
be  taken,  with  veal,  in  the  aforesaid  decoction. 

6.  To  take  every  morning  the  fume  of  lign-aloes, 
rosemary  and  bays  dried,  which   I  use  ;  but  once  in  a 
week  to  add  a  little  tobacco,  without  otherwise  tak- 
ing it  in  a  pipe. 

7.  To  appoint  every  day  an  hour  ad  affectus  inten- 
tionaksct  sanos.     Query,  de  particular  i. 

8.  To  remember  masticatories  for  the  mouth. 

9.  AND   orange-flower  water    to   be  smelt  to   or 
snuffed  up. 

10.  IN  the  third  hour  after  the  sun  is  risen,  to  take 
in  air  from  some  high  and  open  place,  with  a  ventila- 
tion of  rosce  muschatce,  and  fresh  violets;  and  to  stir 
the  earth  with  infusion  of  wine  and  mint. 

1 1.  To  use  ale  with  a  little  enula  campana,  carduus^ 
germander,   sage,  angelica-seed,  cresses  of  a  middle 
age,  to  beget  a  robust  heat. 

12.  MITHRIDATE  thrice  a  year. 

13.  A  BIT  of  bread  dipt  in  vino  odorafo,  with  syrup 
of  dry  rose  and  a  little  amber,  at  going  to  bed. 

14.  NEVER  to  keep  the  body  in  the  same  posture 
above  half  an  hour  at  a  time. 

15.  FOUR  precepts.      To  break   off  custom.     To 
shake  off  spirits   ill  disposed.     To  meditate  on  youth. 
To  do  nothing  against  a  man's  genius. 

16.  SYRUP  of  quinces  for  the  mouth  of  the  stomach. 
Inquire  concerning  other  things  useful  in  that  kind. 

17.  To  use  once  during  supper  time  wine  in  which 
gold  is  quenched. 

18.  To  use  anointing  in   the  morning  lightly  with 
oil   of  almonds,  with   salt  and   saffron,  and  a  gentle 

19.  ALE  of  the  second  infusion  of  the  vine  of  oak. 

20.  METHUSALEM  water  of   pearls    and  shells  of 
crabs,  and  a  little  chalk. 

21.  ALE  of  raisins,  dactyles,  potatoes,  pistachios, 
honey,  tragacanth,  mastic. 

22.  WINK  with  swines  flesh  or  harts  flesh. 

23.  To  drink  the  first  cup  at  supper  hot,  and  half 

Medical  Remains. 

an    hour  before  supper  something  hot  and   aroma- 

24.  CHALYBEATES  four  times  a  year. 

25.  PILULJE  extribus,  once  in  two  months,  but  after 
the  mass  has  been  macerated  in  oil  of  almonds. 

26.  HEROIC  desires. 

27.  BATHING  of  the  feet  once  in  a  month,  with  lye 
ex  sale  7iigro,  camomile,  sweet  marjoram,  fennel,  sage3 
and  a  little  aqua  vita. 

£8.  To  provide  always  an  apt  breakfast. 

29.  To  beat  the  flesh  before  roasting  of  it. 

30.  MACERATIONS  in  pickles. 

31.  Agitation  of  beer  by  ropes,  or  in  wheel-bar- 

32.  THAT  diet  is  good  which  makes  lean  and  then 
renews.     Consider  of  the  ways  to  effect  it. 


His  Lordship's  usual  receipt  for  the  gout ,  to  which  he 
refers,  Nat.  Hist.  Cent.  L  N.  60. 

1.  The  poultis. 

TAKE  of  manchet  about  three  ounces,  the  crumb 
only,  thin  cut;  let  it  be  boiled  in  milk  till  it  grow  to  a 
pulp.  Add  in  the  end  a  dram  and  a  half  of  the  pow- 
der of  red  roses ;  of  saffron  ten  grains  ;  of  oil  of  roses 
an  ounce  ;  let  it  be  spread  upon  a  linen  cloth,  and  ap- 
plied luke-warm,  and  continued  for  three  hours  space. 

2.  The  bath  or  fomentation. 

TAKE  of  sage-leaves  half  a  handful  3  of  the  root  of 
hemlock  sliced  six  drams ;  of  briony-roots  half  an 
ounce;  of  the  leaves  of  red  roses  two  pugils;let  them 
be  boiled  in  a  pottle  of  water,  wherein  steel  hath  been 
quenched,  till  the  liquor  come  to  a  quart.  After  the 
straining,  put  in  half  a  handful  of  bay-salt.  Let  it  be 
used  with  scarlet  cloth,  or  scarlet  wool,  dipped 
in  the  liquor  hot,  and  so  renewed  seven  times;  all  in 
the  space  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  or  little  more. 

VOL>  II.  Q 

226  Medical  Remains. 

3.  Theplaister. 

TAKE  emplastrum  diachalciteos,  as  much  as  is  suffi- 
cient for  the  part  you  mean  to  cover.  Let  it  be  dis- 
solved with  oil  of  roses,  in  such  a  consistence  as  will 
stick ;  and  spread  upon  a  piece  of  Holland,  and  ap- 

His  lordship's  broth  and  fomentation  for  the  stone. 

The  broth. 

TAKE  one  dram  of  eryngiwn  roots,  cleansed  and 
sliced;  and  boil  them  together  with  a  chicken.  In 
the  end,  add  of  alder-flowers,  and  marigold-flowers  tQr 
gether,  one  pugil;  of  angelica-seed  half  a  dram,  of 
raisins  of  the  sun  stoned,  fifteen ;  of  rosemary,  thyme., 
mace,  together,  a  little. 

In  six  ounces  of  this  broth,  or  thereabouts,  let  there 
fee  dissolved  of  white  cremor  tartar i  three  grains. 

Every  third  or  fourth  day,  take  a  small  toast  of 
manchet,  dipped  in  oil  of  sweet  almonds  new  drawn, 
and  sprinkled  with  a  little  loaf-sugar.  You  may\nake 
the  broth  for  two  days,  and  take  one-half  every  day. 

If  you  find  the  stone  to  stir,  forbear  the  toast  for  a 
course  or  two.  The  intention  of  this  broth  is,  not  to 
void,  but  to  undermine  the  quarry  of  the  stones  in  the 

The  fomentation. 

TAKE  of  leaves  of  violets,  mallows,  pcllitory  of  the 
wall,  together,  one  handful ;  of  flowers  of  camomile 
and  melilot,  together,  one  pugil;  the  root  of  marsh- 
mallows,  one  ounce  ;  of  anise  and  fennel  seeds,  toge- 
ther, one  ounce  and  a  half ;  of  flax-seed  two  drams. 
Make  a  decoction  in  spring-water. 

The  second  receipt,  shewing  the  way  of  making  a  certain 
ointment,  which  his  lordship  called  Unguentum  fra- 
grans,  sive  Romanum,  the  fragrant  or  Roman  itn- 
•    guent. 

TAKE  of  the  fat  of  a  deer  half  a  pound  ;  of  oil  of 
sweet  almonds  two  ounces :  let  them  be  set  upon  a 

Medical  Remains.  227 

very  gentle  fire,  and  stirred  with  a  stick  of  juniper 
till  they  are  melted.  Add  of  root  of  flower-de-luce, 
powdered ;  damask-roses,  powdered  ;  together,  one 
dram  ;  of  myrrh  dissolved  in  rose-water  half  a  dram  ; 
of  cloves  half  a  scruple  ;  of  civet  four  grains;  of  musk 
six  grains  ;  of  oil  of  mace  expressed  one  drop  ;  as 
much  of  rose-water  as  sufficeth  to  keep  the  unguent 
from  being  too  thick.  Let  all  these  be  put  together  in 
a  glass,  and  set  upon  the  embers  for  the  space  of  an 
hour,  and  stirred  with  a  stick  of  juniper. 

Note,  that  in  the  confection  of  this  ointment,  there 
was  not  used  above  a  quarter  of  a  pound,  and  a  tenth 
part  of  a  quarter  of  deer's  suet :  and  that  all  the  ingre- 
dients, except  the  oil  of  almonds,  were  doubled  when 
the  ointment  was  half  made,  because  the  fat  things 
seemed  to  be  too  predominant. 

The,  third  receipt.     A  manus  Christi  for  the  stomach. 

TAKE  of  the  best  pearls  very  finely  pulverised,  one 
dram  ;  of  sal  nitre  one  scruple ;  of  tartar  two  scruples ; 
of  ginger  and  galingal  together,  one  ounce  and  a  half; 
of  calamus,  root  of  enula  campcnia,  nutmeg,  together, 
one  scruple  and  a  half;  of  amber  sixteen  grains;  of 
the  best  musk  ten  grains ;  with  rose-water  and  the 
finest  sugar,  let  there  be  made  a  manus  Christi. 

The  fourth  receipt.  A  secret  for  the  stomach. 
TAKE  lignum  aloes  in  gross  shavings,  steep  them  in 
sack,  or  alicant,  changed  twice,  half  an  hour  at  a 
time,  till  the  bitterness  be  drawn  forth.  Then  take 
the  shavings  forth,  and  dry  them  in  the  shade,  and 
beat  them  to  an  excellent  powder.  Of  that  powder, 
with  the  syrup  of  citrons,  make  a  small  pill,  to  be 
taken  before  supper. 






1  SEND  you  the  last  part  of  the  best  book  of  Ari- 
stotle of  Stagira,  who,  as  your  lordship  knoweth, 
goeth  for  the  best  author.  But  saving  the  civil  re- 
spect which  is  due  to  a  received  estimation,  the  man 
being  a  Grecian,  and  of  a  hasty  wit,  having  hardly 
a  discerning  patience,  much  less  a  teaching  patience, 
hath  so  delivered  the  matter,  as  I  am  glad  to  do  the 
part  of  a  good  house-hen,  which  without  any  strange- 
ness will  sit  upon  pheasants  eggs.  And  yet  per- 
chance, some  that  shall  compare  my  lines  with  Ari- 
stotle's lines,  will  muse  by  what  art,  or  rather  by  what 
revelation*  I  could  draw  these  conceits  out  of  that 
place.  But  I,  that  should  know  best,  do  freely  ac- 
knowledge, that  I  had  my  light  from  him ;  for  where 
he  gave  me  not  matter  to  perfect,  at  the  least  he 
gave  me  occasion  to  invent.  Wherein  as  I  do  him 
right,  being  myself  a  man  that  am  as  free  from  envy- 
ing the  dead  in  contemplation,  as  from  envying  the 
living  in  action  or  fortune  :  so  yet  nevertheless  still  I 
say,  and  I  speak  it  more  largely  than  before,  that  in 
perusing  the  writings  of  this  person  so  much  cele- 
brated, whether  it  were  the  impediment  of  his  wit,  or 
that  he  did  it  upon  glory  and  affectation  to  be  subtile, 
as  one  that  if  he  had  seen  his  own  conceits  clearly 
and  perspicuously  delivered,  perhaps  would  have  been 
put  of  love  with  them  himself;  or  else  upon  policy,, 

232  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil. 

to  keep  hitfiself  close,  as  one  that  had  been  a  chal- 
lenger of  all  the  world,  and  had  raised  infinite  contra- 
diction :  to  what  cause  soever  it  is  to  be  ascribed,  I 
do  not  find  him  to  deliver  and  unwrap  himself  well  of 
that  he  seemeth  to  conceive  ;  nor  to  be  a  master  of 
his  own  knowledge.  Neither  do  I  for  my  part  also, 
though  I  have  brought  in  a  new  manner  of  handling 
this  argument,  to  make  it  pleasant  and  lightsome, 
pretend  so  to  have  overcome  the  nature  of  the  sub* 
ject;  but  that  the  full  understanding  and  use  of  it 
will  be  somewhat  dark,  and  best  pleasing  the  taste  of 
such  wits  as  are  patient  to  stay  the  digesting  and  so- 
luting  unto  themselves  of  that  which  is  sharp  and 
subtile.  Which  was  the  cause,  joined  with  the  love 
and  honour  which  I  bear  to  your  lordship,  as  the  per- 
son I  know  to  have  many  virtues,  and  an  excellent 
order  of  them,  which  moved  me  to  dedicate  this 
writing  to  your  lordship  after  the  ancient  manner: 
choosing  both  a  friend,  and  one  to  whom  I  conceived 
the  argument  was  agreeable. 

OF    THE 


IN  deliberatives,  the  point  is,  what  is  good,  and 
what  is  evil ;  and  of  good,  what  is  greater,  and  of 
evil,  what  is  less. 

So  that  the  persuader's  labour  is,  to  make  things 
appear  good  or  evil,  and  that  in  higher  or  lower  de- 
gree :  which  as  it  may  be  performed  by  true  and  solid 
reasons,  so  it  may  be  represented  also  by  colours,  po- 
pularities and  circumstances ;  which  are  of  such 
force,  as  they  sway  the  ordinary  judgment  either  of 
a  weak  man,  or  of  a  wise  man,  not  fully  and  con- 
siderately attending  and  pondering  the  matter.  Be- 

Colours  of  Good  and  Evil. 

sides  their  power  to  alter  the  nature  of  the  subject  in 
appearance,  and  so  to  lead  to  error,  they  are  of  no 
less  use  to  quicken  and  strengthen  the  opinions  and 
persuasions  which  are  true ;  for  reasons  plainly  de- 
livered, and  always  after  one  manner,  especially  with 
fine  and  fastidious  minds,  enter  but  heavily  and  dully : 
whereas  if  they  be  varied,  and  have  more  life  and 
vigour  put  into  them  by  these  forms  and  insinuations, 
they  cause  a  stronger  apprehension,  and  many  times 
suddenly  win  the  mind  to  a  resolution.  Lastly,  to 
make  a  true  and  safe  judgment,  nothing  can  be  of 
greater  use  and  defence  to  the  mind,  than  the  dis- 
covering and  reprehension  of  these  colours,  shewing 
in  what  cases  they  hold,  and  in  what  they  deceive : 
which,  as  it  cannot  be  done  but  out  of  a  very  uni- 
versal knowledge  of  the  nature  of  things,  so  being 
performed,  it  so  cleareth  man's  judgment  and  elec- 
tion, as  it  is, the  less  apt  to  slide  into  any  error. 

A  TABLE  of  the  colours  or  appearances  of  GOOD 
and  EVIL,  and  their  degrees,  as  places  of  per- 
suasion and  dissuasion,  and  their  several  fallacies, 

and  the  clenches  of  them. 



Cut  c&terte  paries  vel  secttf  secundas  unanlmiter  de- 

ferunty  cum    shiguLe    printipatum    sibi    vindicent, 

tnelior  reliquis  videtin\      Nam  primas  quteque  ex 

zeio  videtur  sumere,   secundas   autem    ex  vcro   et 

merito  tribuere. 

SO  Cicero  went  about  to  prove  the  sect  of  Aca- 
demics, which  suspended  all  asseveration,  to  be  the 
best ;  For,  saith  he,  ask  a  Stoic  which  philosophy  is 
true,  he  will  prefer  his  own.  Then  ask  him,  which 
approacheth  next  the  truth,  he  will  confess  the  Aca- 
demics. So  deal  with  the  Epicure,  that  will  scarce 
endure  the  Stoic  to  be  in  sight  of  him  ;  so  soon  as  he 
hath  placed  himself,  he  will  place  the  Academics  next 
him,  So  if  a  prince  took  divers  competitors  to  a 
place,  and  examined  them  severally,  whom  next  them- 

234  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil. 

selves  they  would  rarest  commend,  it  were  like 
ablest  man  should  have  the  most  second  voices. 

The  fallax  of  this  colour  happeneth  oft  in  respect  of 
envy,  for  men  are  accustomed,  after  themselves  and 
their  own  [action,  to  incline  unto  them  which  are 
softest,  and  are  least  in  their  way,  in  despite  and  de- 
rogation of  them  that  hold  them  hardest  to  it.  So 
that  this  colour  of  meliority  and  pre-eminence  is  a  sign 
of  enervation  and  weakness. 


Citjus  excdlentia  vd  exuperantid  metior,  id  toto  genere 


APPERTAINING  to  this  are  the  forms :  «  Let 
"  us  not  wander  in  generalities  :  Let  us  compare  par- 
"  ticular  with  particular,"  etc.  This  appearance, 
though  it  seem  of  strength,  and  rather  logical  than 
rhetorical,  yet  is  very  oft  a  fallax. 

Sometime  because  some  things  are  in  kind  very  ca- 
sual, which  if  they  escape  prove  excellent  5  so  that 
the  kind  is  inferior,  because  it  is  so  subject  to  peril, 
but  that  which  is  excellent  being  proved  is  superior  : 
as  the  blossom  of  March,  and  the  blossom  of  May, 
whereof  the  French  verse  goeth  : 

Burgeon  de  Mars>  enfans  dc  Paris, 

Si  un  $schape9  il  en  vaut  dix. 

So  that  the  blossom  of  May  is  generally  better  than  the 
blossom  of  March  ;  and  yet  the  best  blossom  of  March 
is  better  than  the  best  blossom  of  May.  Sometimes 
because  the  nature  of  some  kinds  is  to  be  more  equal, 
and  more  indifferent,  and  not  to  have  very  distant  de- 
grees; as  hath  been  noted,  in  the  warmer  climates 
the  people  are  generally  more  wise,  but  in  the  nor- 
thern climates  the  wits  of  chief  are  greater.  So  in 
many  armies,  if  the  matter  should  be  tried  by  duel  be- 
tween two  champions,  the  victory  should  go  on  the 
one  side  ;  and  yet  if  it  be  tried  by  the  gross,  it  would 
go  on  the  other  side  :  for  excellencies  go  as  it  were  by 
chance,  but  kinds  go  by  a  more  certain  nature ;  as  by 
discipline  in  war. 

Lastly;    many  kinds    have   much    refuse;    which 

Colours  of  Good  and  Evil.  235 

countervail  that  which  they  have  excellent:  and  there- 
fore generally  metal  is  more  precious  than  stone  ;  and 
yet  a  diamond  is  more  precious  than  gold. 



Quod  ad  veritatcm  refer  lur,  majus  est,  quam  quod  ad 
opinianem.  Modus  autem  et  probatio  ejnsy  quod  ad 
opinionem  pertinet,  h<cc  est :  quodquis,  si  dam  puta- 
ret  forey  facturus  non  essct. 

SO  the  Epicures  say  of  the  Stoic  felicity  placed  in 
virtue,  that  it  is  like  the  felicity  of  a  player,  who  if  he 
were  left  of  his  auditory  and  their  applause,  he  would 
straight  be  out  of  heart  and  countenance  ;  and  there- 
fore they  call  virtue  bonum  theatrale  :  but  of  riches  the 
poet  saith, 

Populus  me  sibilat ;  at  mihi  plaudo. 
And  of  pleasure, 

Grata  sub  imo 
G  audio,  cordepreincns,  vultu  simulante  pudorem. 

The  fallax  of  this  colour  is  somewhat  subtile, though 
the  answer  to  the  example  be  ready,  for  virtue  is  not 
chosen  propter  auram  popidarem  ;  but  contrariwise, 
maxime  omnium  teipsum  reverere  :  so  as  a  virtuous  man 
will  be  virtuous  in  solitudine,  and  not  only  in  theatro, 
though  percase  it  will  be  more  strong  by  glory  and 
fame,  as  an  heat  which  is  doubled  by  reflexion.  But 
that  denieth  the  supposition,  it  doth  not  reprehend 
the  fallax ;  whereof  the  reprehension  is :  Allow  that 
virtue,  such  as  is  joined  with  labour  and  conflict, 
would  not  be  chosen  but  for  fame  and  opinion  :.  yet 
it  followeth  not  that  the  chief  motive  of  the  election 
should  not  be  real  and  for  itself:  for  fame  may  be  only 
causa  impulsiva,  and  not  causa  constituens  or  ejjiciens* 
As  if  there  were  two  horses,  and  the  one  would  do 
better  without  the  spur  than  the  other  :  but  again,  the 
other  with  the  spur  would  far  exceed  the  doing  of  the 
former,  giving  him  the  spur  also  ;  yet  the  latter  will  be 
judged  to  be  the  better  horse.  And  the  form,  as  to 
say,  "  Tush,  the  life  of  this  horse  is  but  in  the  spur/1 
••will  not  serve  as  to  a  wise  judgment :  for  since  the 
ordinary  instrument  of  horsemanship  is.  the. spur,  ai>d 

SS6  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil 

that  it  is  no  matter  of  impediment  or  burden,  the  horse 
is  not  to  be  accounted  the  less  of,  which  will  not  do 
well  without  the  spur ;  but  rather  the  other  is  to  be 
reckoned  a  delicacy  than  a  virtue.  So  glory  and  ho- 
nour are  the  spurs  to  virtue :  and  although  virtue 
would  languish  without  them,  yet  since  they  be  al- 
ways at  hand  to  attend  virtue,  virtue  is  not  to  be  said 
the  less  chosen  for  itself,  because  it  needeth  the  spur 
of  fame  and  reputation  :  and  therefore  that  position, 
nota  ejus,  quod  propter  opinioncm  et  non  propter  verita- 
tem  eligitur,  htccest;  quod  quis,  si  clam  putarct  fore, 
facturus  non  esset,  is  reprehended. 


Quod  rein  integram  servat,  bonum ;  quod  sine  receptif 
tst,  malum :  nam  se  recipere  non  posse,  impotentue 
genus  est ;  potent ia  autem  bonum. 

HEREOF  ^Esop  framed  the  fable  of  the  two  frogs, 
that  consulted  together  in  the  time  of  drought,  when 
many  plashes  that  they  had  repaired  to,  were  dry,  what 
was  to  be  done ;  and  the  one  propounded  to  go  down 
into  a  deep  well,  because  it  was  like  the  water  would 
not  fail  there  ;  but  the  other  answered,  "  Yea,  but 
"  if  it  do  fail,  how  shall  we  get  up  again  ?"  And  the 
reason  is,  that  human  actions  are  so  uncertain  and 
subject  to  perils,  as  that  seemeth  the  best  course  which 
hath  most  passages  out  of  it.  Appertaining  to  this 
persuasion,  the  forms  are  :  You  shall  engage  yourself; 
on  the  other  side,  Non  tantum,  quantum  voles,  sumes  ex 
fortuna,  etc.  You  shall  keep  the  matter  in  your 
own  hand. 

The  reprehension  of  it  is,  that  proceeding  and  re- 
solving in  all  actions  is  necessary.  For  as  he  saith 
well,  Not  to  resolve,  is  to  resolve  ;  and  many  times 
it  breeds  as  many  necessities,  and  engageth  as  far  in 
some  other  sort,  as  to  resolve.  So  it  is  but  the  covet- 
ous man's  disease,  translated  into  power;  for  the  co- 
vetous man  will  enjoy  nothing,  because  he  will  have 
his  full  store  and  possibility  to  enjoy  the  more:  so  by 
this  reason  a  man  should  execute  nothing,  because  he 
should  be  still  indifferent,  and  at  liberty  to  execute 

Colours  of  Good  and  Evil.  237 

any  thing.  Besides,  necessity  and  this  same  jactaest 
tika,  hath  many  times  an  advantage,  because  it  awak- 
eth  the  powers  of  the  mind,  and  strengthened  endea- 
vour;  Ctfteris  pares,  necessitate  certe  super  lores  estis* 


Qiwd  expluribus  constat  et  divisibilibus  est  majus,  quam 
quod  ex  paucioribus,  et  magis  unum;  nam  omnia 
per  paries  consider  ata  major  a  videntur:  quare  et 
pluralitas partium  magnitudinem'pr<c  sefert :  fortius 
autemoperatur  pluralitaspartium  si  or  do  absit;  nam 
inducit  similitudinem  infiniti,  et  impedit  comprehen- 

THIS  colour  seemeth  palpable  ;  for  it  is  not  plu- 
rality pf  parts  without  majority  of  parts,  that  maketh 
the  total  greater ;  yet  nevertheless  it  often  carries  the 
mind  away,  yea,  it  deceiveth  the  sense  ;  as  it  seemeth 
to  the  eye  a  shorter  distance  of  way,  if  it  be  all  dead 
and  continued,  than  if  it  have  trees  or  buildings,  or 
any  other  marks  whereby  the  eye  may  divide  it.  So 
when  a  great  moneyed  man  hath  divided  his  chests, 
and  coins,  and  bags,  he  seemeth  to  himself  richer  than 
he  was  ;  and  therefore  a  way  to  amplify  any  thing  is, 
to  break  it,  and  to  make  anatomy  of  it  in  several  parts, 
and  ,to  examine  it  according  to  several  circumstances. 
And  this  maketh  the  greater  shew  if  it  be  done  with- 
out order,  for  confusion  maketh  things  muster  more; 
and  besides,  what  is  set  down  by  order  and  division, 
doth  demonstrate  that  nothing  is  left  out  or  omitted, 
but  all  is  there ;  whereas  if  it  be  without  order,  both 
the  mind  comprehendeth  less  that  which  is  set  down  ; 
and  besides,  it  leaveth  a  suspicion,  as  if  more  might 
be  said  than  is  expressed. 

This  colour  deceiveth,  if  the  mind  of  him  that  is  to 
be  persuaded,  do  of  itself  over-conceive,  or  prejudge 
of  the  greatness  of  any  thing;  for  then  the  breaking 
of  it  will  make  it  seem  less,  because  it  maketh  it  to 
appear  more  according  to  the  truth :  and  therefore  if 
a  man  be  in  sickness  or  pain,  the  time  will  seem 
longer  without  a  clock  or  hour-glass,  than  with  it ; 
for  the  mind  doth  value  every  moment,  and  then  the 


2  S  8  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil. 

hour  doth  rather  sum  up  the  moments,  than  divide  the 
day.  So  in  a  dead  plain  the  way  seemeth  the  longer, 
because  the  eye  hath  preconceived  it  shorter  than  the 
truth,  and  the  frustrating  of  that  maketh  it  seem 
longer  than  the  truth.  Therefore  if  any  man  have  an 
over-great  opinion  of  any  thing,  then  it  another  think 
by  breaking  it  into  several  considerations  he  shall 
make  it  seem  greater  to  him,  he  will  be  deceived; 
and  therefore  in  such  cases  it  is  not  safe  to  divide, 
but  to  extol  the  entire  still  in  general.  Another  case 
wherein  this  colour  deceiveth,  is  when  the  matter 
broken  or  divided  is  not  comprehended  by  the  sense 
or  made  at  once,  in  respect  of  the  distracting  or  scat- 
tering of  it;  and  being  intire  and  not  divided,  is 
comprehended  :  as  an  hundred  pounds  in  heaps  of 
five  pounds  will  shew  more  than  in  one  gross  heap,  so 
as  the  heaps  be  all  upon  one  taHe  to  be  seen  at  once, 
otherwise  not :  as  flowers  growing  scattered  in  divers 
beds  will  shew  more  than  if  they  did  grow  in  one  bed, 
•so  as  all  those  beds  be  within  a  plot,  that  they  be  ob*- 
ject  to  view  at  once,  otherwise  not :  and  therefore 
men,  whose  living  lieth  together  in  one  shire,  are  com- 
monly counted  greater  landed  than  those  whose  liv- 
ings are  dispersed,  though  it  be  more,  because  of  the 
notice  and  comprehension.  A  third  case  wherein  this 
colour  deceiveth,  and  it  is  not  so  properly  a  case  of 
reprehension,  as  it  is  a  counter  colour,  being  in  effect 
as  large  as  the  colour  itself;  and  that  is,  omnis  compo- 
sitio  indigentite  cu jus  dam  in  singidis  videtur  cssc  parti- 
cepsy  because  if  one  thing  would  serve  the  turn,  it 
were  ever  best,  but  the  defect  and  imperfections  of 
things  hath  brought  in  that  help  to  piece  them  up  ; 
as  it  is  said,  Martha,  Martha,  attcndis  ad  plurima,  wmm 
siiffi-cit.  So  likewise  hereupon  ^Esop  framed  the  fable 
of  the  fox  and  the  cat ;  whereas  the  fox  bragged 
what  a  number  of  shifts  and  devices  he  had  to  get 
from  the  hounds,  and  the  cat  said  he  had  but  one, 
which  was  to  climb  a  tree,  which  in  proof  was  bet- 
ter worth  than  all  the  rest ;  whereof  the  proverb  grew, 
Malta  novit  vulpes,  sed  fclis  union  magnum.  And  in 
the  moral  of  this  fable  it  comes  likewise  to  pass,  that 

Colours  of  Good  and  Evil.  239 

a  good  sure  friend  is  a  better  help  at  a  pinch,  than  all 
the  stratagems  and  policies  of  a  man's  own  wit.  So 
it  falleth  out  to  be  a  common  error  in  negociating, 
whereas  men  have  many  reasons  to  induce  or  per- 
suade, they  strive  commonly  to  utter  and  use  them  all 
at  once,  which  weakeneth  them.  For  it  argueth,  as 
was  said,  a  neediness  in  every  of  the  reasons  by  itself, 
as  if  one  did  not  trust  to  any  of  them,  but  fled  froai 
one  to  another,  helping  himself  only  with  that :  Et 
qua  non  prosunt  singula,  mulla  juvant.  Indeed  in  a 
set  speech  in  an  assembly,  it  is  expected  a  man  should 
use  all  his  reasons  in  the  case  he  handleth,  but  in  pri- 
vate persuasions  it  is  always  a  great  error.  A  fourth 
case  wherein  this  colour  maybe  reprehended,  is  in  re- 
spect of  that  same  vis  unita  fortlor ^  according  to  the 
tale  of  the  French  king,  that  when  the  emperor's  am- 
bassador had  recited  his  master's  stile  at  large,  which 
consisteth  of  many  countries  and  dominions;  the 
French  king  willed  his  chancellor,  or  other  minister,  to 
repeat  over  France  as  many  times  as  the  other  had  recit- 
ed the  several  dominions;  intending  it  was  equivalent 
with  them  all,  and  more  compacted  and  united.  There 
is  also  appertaining  to  this  colour  another  point,  why- 
breaking  of  a  thing  doth  help  it,  not  by  way  of  add- 
ing a  shew  of  magnitude  unto  it,  but  a  note  of  excel- 
lency and  rarity ;  whereof  the  forms  are,  Where 
shall  you  find  such  a  concurrence  ;  Great  but  not 
complete ;  for  it  seems  a  less  w7ork  of  nature  or  tor- 
tune,  to  make  any  thing  in  his  kind  greater  than  or- 
dinary, than  to  make  a  strange  composition.  Yet  if 
it  be  narrowly  considered,  this  colour  will  be  repre- 
hended or  encountered,  by  imputing  to  all  excellen^ 
cies  in  compositions  a  kind  of  poverty,  or  at  least  a 
casualty  or  jeopardy  ;  for  from  that  which  is  excel- 
lent in  greatness,  somewhat  may  be  taken,  or  there 
may  be  a  decay,  and  yet  sufficient  left ;  but  from  that 
which  hath  his  price  in  composition  if  you  take  away 
any  thing,  or  any  part  do  fail,  all  is  disgrace. 

240  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil. 


Cnjus  privatio   bonay  malnm  ;    cujus  privatio  mala, 


THE  forms  to  make  it  conceived,  that  that  was 
evil  which  is  changed  for  the  better,  are,  He  that  is 
in  hell  thinks  there  is  no  other  heaven.  Satis  quercus, 
Acorns  were  good  till  bread  was  found,  etc.  And  of 
the  other  side,  the  forms  to  make  it  conceived,  that 
that  was  good  which  was  changed  for  the  worse,  are, 
Bona  mag  is  carcndo  quam  fruendo  sentimus  :  Bona  ct 
tergoformosissima:  Good  things  never  appear  in  their 
full  beauty,  till  they  turn  their  back  and  be  going 
away,  etc. 

The  reprehension  of  this  colour  is,  that  the  good  or 
evil  which  is  removed,  may  be  esteemed  good  or  evil 
comparatively,  and  not  positively  or  simply.  So  that 
if  the  privation  be  good,  it  follows  not  the  former 
condition  was  evil,  but  less  good  :  for  the  flower  or 
blossom  is  a  positive  good,  although  the  remove  of  it 
to  give  place  to  the  fruit,  be  a  comparative  good.  So 
in  the  the  tale  of  ^Esop,  when  the  old  fainting  man 
in  the  heat  of  the  day  cast  down  his  burden,  and  called 
for  Death  ;  and  when  Death  came  to  know  his  will 
with  him,  said,  it  was  for  nothing  but  to  help  him  up 
\vith  his  burden  again :  it  doth  not  follow,  that  be- 
cause death,  which  was  the  privation  of  the  burden, 
was  ill,  therefore  the  hurden  was  good.  And  in  this 
part,  the  ordinary  form  of  malum  necessarium,  aptly 
reprehendeth  this  colour ;  for  privatio  mail  necessarii 
cst  mala,  and  yet  that  doth  not  convert  the  nature  of 
the  necessary  evil,  but  it  is  evil. 

Again,  it  cometh  sometimes  to  pass,  that  there  is  an 
equality  in  the  change  of  privation,  and  as  it  were  a 
dilemma  boni,  or  a  dilemma 'mail:  so  that  the  cor- 
ruption of  the  one  good,  is  a  generation  of  the  other. 
Sorti  pater  aquus  utrlque  cst :  and  contrary,  the  re- 
medy of  the  one  evil  is  Hie  occasion  and  commence- 
ment of  another,  as  in  Scylla  and  Charybdis. 

Colours  of  Good  and  Evil.  21-1 


Quod  bono  vicinum,  bonum  ;  quod  d  bono  remolum, 

SUCH  is  the  nature  of  things,  that  things  contrary* 
and  distant  in  nature  and  quality,  are  also  severed  and 
disjoined  in  place  :  and  things  like  and  consenting  in 
quality,  are  placed,  and  as  it  were  quartered  together  : 
for,  partly  in  regard  of  the  nature  to  spread,  multiply, 
and  infect  in  similitude  ;  and  partly  in  regard  of  the 
nature  to  break,  expel,  and  alter  that  which  is  disa- 
greeable and   contrary,  most  things  do  either  associ- 
ate, and  draw  near  to  themselves  the  like,  or  at  least 
assimilate  to  themselves  that  which  approacheth  near 
them,  and  do  also  drive  away,  chase  and  exterminate 
their  contraries.     And  that  is  the    reason  commonly 
yielded,  why  the  middle  region  of  the  air  should  be 
coldest,  because  the  sun  and  stars  are  either  hot  by 
direct  beams,  or  by  reflexion.    The  direct  beams  heat 
the  upper  region,  the  reflected  beams  from  the  earth 
and  seas,  heat  the   lower  region.     That  which  is  in 
the  midst,  being  farthest  distant  in   place  from  these 
two  regions  of  heat,  are  most  distant  in  nature,  that 
is,  coldest ;  which   is  that  they  term  cold  or  hot  per 
antipcristasin,  that  is  environing  by  contraries  :  which 
was  pleasantly  taken  hold  of  by  him  that  said,  that  an 
honest  man,  in  these  days,  must  needs  be  more  honest 
than  in  ages  heretofore,   propter   anliperistasiny   be- 
cause the  shutting  of  him  in  the   midst  of  contraries, 
must  needs  make  the  honesty  stronger  and  more  com- 
pact in  itself. 

The  reprehension  of  this  colour  is :  first,  many 
things  of  amplitude  in  their  kind  do  as  it  were  ingross 
to  themselves  all,  and  leave  that  which  is  next  them 
most  destitute:  as  the  shoots  or  underwood,  that  grow 
near  a  great  and  spread  tree,  is  the  most  pined  and 
shrubby  wood  of  the  field,  because  the  great  tree 
doth  deprive  and  deceive  them  of  sap  and  nourish-  ' 
ment;  so  he  saith  well,  divitis  servi  maxime  servi :  and 
the  comparison  was  pleasant  of  him,  that  compared 
courtiers  attendant  in  the  courts  of  princes  without 

VOL.  II.  R 

242  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil* 

great  place  or  office,  to  fasting-days,  which  were 
next  the  holy-days,  but  otherwise  were  the  leanest 
days  in  all  the  week. 

Another  reprehension  is,  that  things  of  greatness 
and  predominancy,  though  they  do  not  extenuate  the 
things  adjoining  in  substance,  yet  they  drown  them 
and  obscure  them  in  shew  and  appearance;  and  there- 
fore the  astronomers  say,  That  whereas  in  all  other  pla- 
nets conjunction  is  the  perfectest  amity ;  the  sun  con- 
trariwise is  good  by  aspect,  but  evil  by  conjunction. 

A  third  reprehension  is,  because  evil  approacheth 
to  good  sometimes  for  concealment,  sometimes  for 
protection;  and  good  to  evil  for  conversion  and  re- 
formation. So  hypocrisy  draweth  near  to  religion 
for  covert,  and  hiding  itself;  sape  latet  vitium  proxi- 
mitate  boni :  and  sanctuary-men,  which  were  com- 
monly inordinate  men  and  malefactors,  were  wont  to 
be  nearest  to  priests  and  prelates,  and  holy  men  ;  for 
the  majesty  of  good  things  is  such,  as  the  confines  of 
them  are  reverend.  On  the  other  side,  our  Saviour, 
charged  with  nearness  of  publicans  and  rioters,  said, 
the  physician  approacheth  the  sicky  rather  than  the  whole, 


Quod  quis  culpa  sua  contraxit,  majus  mahtm ;  quod  ab 
externis  imponitury  minus  malum. 

THE  reason  is,  because  the  sting  and  remorse  of 
the  mind  accusing  itself  doubleth  all  adversity:  con- 
trariwise, the  considering  and  recording  inwardly, 
that  a  man  is  clear  and  free  from  fault  and  just  impu- 
tation, doth  attemper  outward  calamities.  For  if  the 
evil  be  in  the  sense,  and  in  the  conscience  both,  there 
is  a  gemination  of  it;  but  if  evil  be  in  the  one  and 
comfort  in  the  other,  it  is  a  kind  of  compensation  :  so 
the  poets  in  tragedies  do  make  the  most  passionate  la- 
mentation, and  those  that  fore-run  final  despair,  to  be 
accusing,  questioning,  and  torturing  of  a  man's  life. 
Seque  uiunn  chnnat  causamque  caputque  malorum. 

And  contrariwise,  the  extremities  of  worthy  persons 
have  been  annihilated  in  the  consideration  of  their  own 
good  deserving.  Besides,  when  the  evil  cometh  from 

Colours  of  Good  and  Evil  243 

without,  there  is  left  a  kind  of  evaporation  of  grief,  if 
it  come  by  human  injury,  either  by  indignation,  and 
meditating  of  revenge  from  ourselves,  or  by  expecting 
or  fore-conceiving  that  Nemesis  and  retribution  will 
take  hold  of  the  authors  of  our  hurt:  or  if  it  be  by  for- 
tune or  accident,  yet  there  is  left  a  kind  of  expostula- 
tion against  the  divine  powers ; 

Atque  deos  atque  astra  vocat  cruddia  mater. 
But  where  the  evil  is  derived  from  a  man's  own 
fault,  there  all  strikes  deadly  inwards,  and  surTocateth. 

The  reprehension  of  this  colour  is,  first  in  respect 
of  hope,  for  reformation  of  our  faults  is  innostrapo- 
testate  y  but  amendment  of  our  fortune  simply  is  not. 
Therefore,  Demosthenes,  in  many  of  his  orations,  saith 
thus  to  the  people  of  Athens:  "  That  having  regard  to 
<c  the  time  past  is  the  worst  point  and  circumstance 
"  of  all  the  rest;  that  as  to  the  time  to  c^me  is  the 
"  best :  what  is  that  ?  Even  this,  that  by  your  sloth,  , 
*c  irresolution,  and  misgovernment,  your  affairs  are 
<c  grown  to  this  declination  and  decay.  For  had  you 
**  used  and  ordered  your  means  and  forces  to  the 
"  best,  and  done  your  parts  every  way  to  the  full,  and, 
"  notwithstanding,  your  matters  should  have  gone 
"  backward  in  this  manner  as  they  do,  there  had 
"  been  no  hope  left  of  recovery  or  reparation  ;  but 
"  since  it  hath  been  only  by  our  own  errors,"  etc.  So 
Epictetus  in  his  degrees  saith,  The  worst  state  of 
man  is  to  accuse  external  things,  better  that  to  accuse 
a  man's  self,  and  best  of  all  to  accuse  neither. 

Another  reprehension  of  this  colour  is,  in  respect  of 
the  well-bearing  of  evils  wherewith  a  man  can  charge 
nobody  but  himself,  which  maketh  them  the  less. 
Levefit  quod  benefertur  onus. 

And  therefore  many  natures  that  are  either  ex- 
tremely proud,  and  will  take  no  fault  to  themselves, 
or  else  very  true  and  cleaving  to  themselves, 
when  they  see  the  blame  of  any  thing  that  falls  out  ill 
must  light  upon  themselves,  have  no  other  shift  but  to 
bear  it  out  well,  and  to  make  the  least  of  it;  for  as 
we  see  when  sometimes  a  fault  is  committed,  and  be- 
fore it  be  known  who  is  to  blame,  much  ado  is  made 

R  2 

2-14  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil. 

of  it;  but  after,  if  it  appear  to  be  done  by  a  son,  or 
by  a  wife,  or  by  a  near  friend,  then  it  is  light  made  of: 
so  much  more  when  a  man  must  take  it  upon  himself. 
And  therefore  it  is  commonly  seen,  that  women  that 
marry  husbands  of  their  own  choosing  against  their 
friends  consents,  if  they  be  never  so  ill  used,  yet  you 
shall  seldom  see  them  complain,  but  set  a  good  face 
on  it. 


Quod  opera  el  virtute  nostra  partum  estymajus  bonum* 

quod  ab  alieno  be  jw fie  to  vel  ab  indulgentia  fortune 

delation  est,  minus  bomim. 

THE  reasons  are,  first,  the  future  hope,  because  in 
the  favours  of  others,  or  the  good  winds  of  fortune, 
we  have  no  state  or  certainty,  in  our  endeavours  or 
abilities  we  have.  So  as  when  they  have  purchased 
one  good  fortune,  we  have  them  as  ready,  and  better 
edged,  and  inured  to  procure  another. 

The  forms  be :  You  have  won  this  by  play.  You 
have  not  only  the  water,  but  you  have  the  receipt,  you 
can  make  it  again  if  it  be  lost,  etc. 

Next,  because  these  properties  which  we  enjoy  by 
the  benefit  of  others,  carry  with  them  an  obligation, 
which  seemeth  a  kind  of  burden ;  whereas  the  other, 
which  derive  from  ourselves,  are  like  the  freest  pa- 
tents, absque  aliquo  vide  reddendo  ;  and  if  they  pro- 
ceed from  fortune  or  providence,  yet  they  seem  to 
touch  us  secretly  with  the  reverence  of  the  divine 
powers,  whose  favours  we  taste,  and  therefore  work  a 
kind  of  religious  fear  and  restraint :  whereas  in  the 
other  kind,  that  comes  to  pass  which  the  prophet 
speaketh,  Lctantur  et  exultant,  immolant  plagis  suis,  et 
sacrijicant  rcti  suo. 

Thirdly,  because  that  which  cometh  unto  us  with- 
out our  own  virtue,  yieldeth  not  that  commendation 
and  reputation  ;  for  actions  of  great  felicity  may  draw 
wonder,  but  praise  less;  as  Cicero  said  to  Caesar, 
.QnamircmiWy  habcmus  ;  qua  laudemus,  expectamus. 

Fourthly,   because  the  .purchases  of  our  own  in* 

Colours  of  Good  and  Evil.  245 

dustry  are  joined  commonly  with  labour  and  strife, 
which  gives  an  edge  and  appetite,  and  makes  the 
fruition  of  our  desires  more  pleasant.  Suavis  cibus  d 
vena  tit. 

On  the  other  side,  there  be  four  counter  colours  to 
this  colour,  rather  than  reprehensions,  because  they  be 
as  large  as  the  colour  itself.  First,  because  felicity 
seemeth  to  be  a  character  of  the  favour  andlove  of  the 
divine  powers,  and  accordingly  worketh  both  confi- 
dence in  ourselves,  and  respect  and  authority  from 
others.  And  this  felicity  extendeth  to  many  casual 
things,  whereunto  the  care  or  virtue  of  man  cannot 
extend,  and  therefore  seemeth  to  be  a  larger  good;  as 
when  Csesar  said  to  the  sailor,  Ctfsaremportas  etfortu- 
namejus  ;  if  he  had  said  et  virtutem  ejus,  it  had  been 
small  comfort  against  a  tempest,  otherwise  than  if  it 
might  seem  upon  merit  to  induce  fortune. 

Next,  whatsoever  is  done  by  virtue  and  industry, 
seems  to  be  done  by  a  kind  of  habit  and  art,  and  there- 
fore open  to  be  imitated  and  followed ;  whereas  feli- 
city is  inimitable :  so  we  generally  see,  that  things  of 
nature  seem  more  excellent  than  things  of  art,  because 
they  be  inimitable :  for  quod  imitabilc  est,  potent ia 
quadam  vulgatuln  eat. 

Thirdly,  felicity  commendeth  those  things  which 
come  without  our  own  labour;  for  they  seem  gifts, 
and  the  other  seem  pennyworths:  whereupon  Plu- 
tarch saith  elegantly  of  the  acts  of  Timoleon,  who 
was  so  fortunate,  compared  with  the  acts  of  Agesi- 
laus  and  Epaminondas ;  that  they  were  like  Homer's 
verses,  they  ran  so  easily  and  so  well.  And  therefore 
it  is  the  word  we  give  unto  poesy,  terming  it  a  happy 
vein,  because  facility  seemeth  ever  to  come  from  hap- 

Fourthly,  this  same  prater  span,  vcl  prater  expect  a- 
tum,  doth  increase  the  price  and  pleasure  of  many 
things;  and  this  cannot  be  incident  to  those  things 
that  proceed  from  our  own  care  and  compass. 

246  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil 


Gradus  privationis  major  ride  fur,  quam  gradus  dimimt* 
tionis  ;  et  rursus  gradus  inccptionis  major  vidctm\ 
quam  gradus  incrcmenti. 

IT  is  a  position  in  the  mathematics,  that  there  is 
no  proportion  between  somewhat  and  nothing,  there- 
fore the  degree  of  nullity  and  quiddity  or  act,  seemeth 
larger  than  the  degrees  of  increase  and  decrease ;  as 
to  a  monoculus  it  is  more  to  lose  one  eye  than  to  a  man 
that  hath  two  eyes.  So  if  one  have  lost  divers  chil- 
dren, it  is  more  grief  to  him  to  lose  the  last,  than  all 
the  rest;  because  he  is  spes  gregis.  And  therefore 
Sibylla,  when  she  brought  her  three  books,  and  had 
burned  two,  did  double  the  whole  price  of  both  the 
other,  because  the  burning  of  that  had  been  gradu$ 
privationis,  and  not  diminutionis. 

This  colour  is  reprehended  first  in  those  things,  the 
use  and  service  whereof  resteth  in  sufficiency,  compe- 
tency, or  determinate  quantity :  as  if  a  man  be  to  pay 
one  hundred  pounds  upon  a  penalty,  it  is  more  to  him 
to  want  twelve  pence,  than  after  that  twelve  pence 
supposed  to  be  wanting  to  want  ten  shillings  more  ; 
so  the  decay  of  a  man's  estate  seems  to  be  most 
touched  in  the  degree,  when  he  first  grows  behind* 
more  than  afterwards,  when  he  proves  nothing  worth. 
And  hereof  the  common  forms  are  Sera  in  f undo  par* 
simonia,  and  as  good  never  a  whit,  as  never  the  bet- 
ter, etc.  It  is  reprehended  also  in  respect  of  that 
notion,  Corrupt  io  unius,  generatlo  alterius :  so  that 
gradus  privationis  is  many  times  less  matter,  because 
it  gives  the  cause  and  motive  to  some  new  course. 
As  when  Demosthenes  reprehended  the  people  for 
hearkening  to  the  conditions  offered  by  king  rhilip, 
being  not  honourable  nor  equal,  he  saith  they  were 
but  aliments  of  their  sloth  and  weakness,  which  if 
they  were  taken  away,  necessity  would  teach  them 
stronger  resolutions.  So  doctor  Hector  was  wont  to 
say  to  the  dames  of  London,  when  they  complained 
they  were  they  could  not  tell  how,  but  yet  they  could 
not  endure  to  take  any  medicine  ;he  would  tell  them, 
their  way  was  only  to  be  sick,  for  then  they  would  be 
glad  to  take  any  medicine. 

Colours  of  Good  and  Evil.  2*7 

Thirdly,  this  colour  may  be  reprehended,  in  respect 
that  the  degree  of  decrease  is  more  sensitive  than  the 
degree  of  privation;  for  in  the  mind  of  man  gradns 
dimmuttonis  may  work  a  wavering  between  hope  and 
fear,  and  so  keep  the  mind  in  suspense,  from  settling 
and  accommodating  in  patience  and  resolution. 
Hereof  the  common  forms  are,  Better  eye  out  than 
always  ache ;  Make  or  mar,  etc, 

For  the  second  branch  of  this  colour,  it  depends 
upon  the  same  general  reason  :  hence  grew  the  com- 
mon place  of  extolling  the  beginning  of  every  thing  : 
dimidium  fact  I  qui  bene  ccepit  habet.  This  made  the 
astrologers  so  idle  as  to  judge  of  a  man's  nature  and 
destiny,  by  the  constellation  of  the  moment  of  his  na- 
tivity or  conception.  This  colour  is  reprehended,  be- 
cause many  inceptions  are  but,  as  Epicurus  termeth 
them,  tentamenta,  that  is,  imperfect  offers  and  essays, 
which  vanish  and  come  to  no  substance  without  an 
iteration;  so  as  in  such  cases  the  second  degree  seems 
the  worthiest,  as  the  body-horse  in  the  cart,  that 
draweth  more  than  the  fore^horse.  Hereof  the  com- 
mon forms  are,  The  second  blow  makes  the  fray,  the 
second  word  makes  the  bargain  ;  Alter  malo  principium 
dtdity  alter  moditm  abstulit,  etc.  Another  reprehen- 
sion of  this  colour  is  in  respect  of  defatigation,  which 
makes  perseverance  of  greater  dignity  than  inception  : 
for  chance  or  instinct  of  nature  may  cause  inception  ; 
but  settled  affection,  or  judgment,  maketh  the  conti- 

Thirdly,  This  colour  is  reprehended  in  such  things, 
which  have  a  natural  course  and  inclination  contrary 
to  an  inception,  So  that  the  inception  is  continually 
evacuated  and  gets  no  start ;  as  in  the  common  form, 
Non  progredi  est  regredi,  Qui  nonprqfidt  deficit :  run- 
ning against  the  hill;  rowing  against  the  stream,  etc. 
For  if  it  be  with  the  stream  or  with  the  hill,  then  the 
degree  of  inception  is  more  than  ail  the  rest, 

Fourthly,  This  colour  is  to  be  understood  of  gr  adits 
inccpiionis  a  potentia  ad  actum,  comparatus  cum  gradu 
ab  act u  ad  increment um.  For  otherwise  major  v'dettir 
gradus  ab  iinpotentiq  ad  potentiam,  qu&m  a  pvtcnim  ad 



[     251     > 

To  Mr.  ANTHONY  BACON,  his  dear  Brother. 

Loving  and  beloved  Brother, 

I  DO  now,  like  some  that  have  an  orchard  ill  neigh- 
boured, that  gather  their  fruit  before  it  is  ripe,  to 
prevent  stealing.  These  fragments  of  my  conceits 
were  going  to  print ;  to  labour  the  stay  of  them  had 
been  troublesome,  and  subject  to  interpretation ;  to 
Jet  them  pass  had  been  to  adventure  the  wrong  they 
might  receive  by  untrue  copies,  or  by  some  garnish- 
ment which  it  might  please  any  that  should  set  them 
forth  to  bestow  upon  them.  Therefore  I  held  it  best 
discretion  to  publish  them  myself,  as  they  passed  long 
ago  from  my  pen,  without  any  further  disgrace  than 
the  weakness  of  the  author.  And  as  I  did  ever  hold, 
there  might  be  as  great  a  vanity  in  retiring  and  with- 
drawing mens  conceits,  except  they  be  of  some  na- 
ture, from  the  world,  as  in  obtruding  them:  so  hi 
these  particulars  I  have  played  myself  the  inquisitor, 
and  find  nothing  to  my  understanding  in  them  con- 
trary or  infectious  to  the  state  of  religion,  or  manners, 
but,  rather  as  I  suppose,  medicinable.  Only  I  dis- 
liked now  to  put  them  out,  because  they  will  be  like 
the  late  new  half-pence,  which  though  the  silver  were 
good,  yet  the  pieces  were  small.  But  since  they 
would  not  stay  with  their  master,  but  would  needs 
travel  abroad,  I  have  preferred  them  to  you  that  are 
next  myself;  dedicating  them,  such  as  they  are,  to 
our  love,  in  the  depth  whereof,  I  assure  you,  I  some- 
times wish  your  infirmities  translated  upon  myself, 
that  her  majesty  might  have  the  service  of  so  active 
and  able  a  mind;  and  I  might  be  with  excuse  con- 
fined to  these  contemplations  and  studies,  for  which 
3  am  fittest :  so  commend  I  you  to  the  preservation  of 
the  divine  Majesty. 

Your  intirc  loving  Brother, 
From  my  chamber  at  GrayVInn,  ^  ^ 

thib  :30th  of  January,  1597,  *  RAN«  JMCON. 

To  my  loving  Eroth&^^r  JOHN  CONSTABLE,  Knight. 

JVlY  last  Essays  I  dedicated  to  my  dear  brother, 
Mr.  Anthony  Bacon,  who  is  with  God.  Looking 
amongst  my  papers  this  vacation,  I  found  others  of 
the  same  nature  :  which  if  I  myself  shall  not  suffer  to 
be  lost,  it  seemeth  the  world  will  not,  by  the  often 
printing  of  the  former.  Missing  my  brother,  I  found 
you  next ;  in  respect  of  bond  both  of  near  alliance, 
and  of  strait  friendship  and  society,  and  particularly  of 
communication  in  studies :  wherein  I  must  acknow- 
ledge myself  beholden  to  you.  For  as  my  business 
found  rest  in  my  contemplations,  so  my  contempla- 
tions ever  found  rest  in  your  loving  conference  and 
judgment.  So  wishing  you  all  good,  I  remain 

1612.  Your  loving  brother  and  friend, 


To  the  right  honourable  my  very  good  Lord  the  duke  of 
BUCKINGHAM,  hisgrace3  lord  high  admiral  of  England' 

Excellent  Lord, 

OOLOMON  says,  A  good  name  is  as  a  precious  oint- 
ment ;  and  I  assure  myself  such  will  your  grace's 
name  be  with  posterity.  For  your  fortune  and  merit 
both  have  been  eminent :  and  you  have  planted  things 
that  are  like  to  last.  I  do  now  publish  my  Essays  ; 
which  of  all  my  other  works  have  been  most  current  : 
for  that,  as  it  seems,  they  come  home  to  mens  busi- 
ness and  bosoms.  I  have  enlarged  them  both  in 
number  and  weight ;  so  that  they  are  indeed  a  new 
work.  I  thought  it  therefore  agreeable  to  my  affec- 
tion and  obligation  to  your  grace,  to  prefix  your  name 
before  them  both  in  English  and  in  Latin :  For  I  do 
conceive,  that  the  Latin  volume  of  them,  being  in 
the  universal  language,  may  last  as  long  as  books  last. 
My  Instauration  1  dedicated  to  the  king:  my  History 
of  Henry  the  seventh,  which  I  have  now  also  translated 
into  Latin,  and  my  portions  of  Natural  History,  to 
the  prince  :  and  these  I  dedicate  to  your  grace  $  be- 
ing of  the  best  fruits,  that  by  the  good  increase  which 
God  gives  to  my  pen  and  labours  I  could  yield.  God 
lead  your  grace  by  the  hand. 

1625.  Your  grace's  most  obliged  and  faithful  servant, 

FRAN.  Sr.  ALB  AN. 


I.     Of  TRUTH. 

\VHAT  is  truth?  said  jesting  Pilate;  and  would 
not  stay  for  an  answer.  Certainly  there  be  that  de- 
light in  giddiness ;  and  count  it  a  bondage  to  fix  a 
belief;  affecting  free-will  in  thinking,  as  well  as  in 
acting.  And  though  the  sects  of  philosophers  of  that 
kind  be  gone,  yet  there  remain  certain  discoursing 
wits,  which  are  of  the  same  veins,  though  there  be 
not  so  much  blood  in  them  as  was  in  those  of  the 
ancients.  But  it  is  not  only  the  difficulty  and  la- 
bour which  men  take  in  finding  out  of  truth ;  nor 
again,  that  when  it  is  found,  it  imposeth  upon  men's 
thoughts ;  that  doth  bring  lyes  in  favour :  but  a  na-. 
tural  though  corrupt  love  of  the  lye  itself.  One  of 
the  later  school  of  the  Grecians  examineth  the  matter, 
and  is  at  a  stand  to  think  what  should  be  in  it,  that 
men  should  love  lyes  ;  where  neither  they  make  for 
pleasure,  as  with  poets ;  nor  for  advantage,  as  with 
the  merchant ;  but  for  the  lye's  sake.  But  I  cannot 
tell :  this  same  truth  is  a  naked  and  open  day-light, 
that  doth  not  shew  the  masks,  and  mummeries,  and 
triumphs  of  the  world,  half  so  stately  and  daintily  as 
candle-lights.  Truth  may  perhaps  come  to  the  price 
of  a  pearl,  that  sheweth  best  by  day  :  but  it  will  not 
rise  to  the  price  of  a  diamond  or  carbuncle,  that 
sheweth  best  in  varied  lights.  A  mixture  of  a  lye 
doth  ever  add  pleasure.  Doth  any  man  doubt,  that 
if  there  were  taken  out  of  mens  minds,  vain  opinions, 
flattering  hopes,  false  valuations,  imaginations  as 
one  would,  and  the  like ;  but  it  would  leave  the 
minds  of  a  number  of  men,  poor  shrunken  things ; 
full  of  melancholy  and  indisposition,  and  unpleasing. 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

to  themselves  ?     One  of  the  fathers,  in  great  severity* 
called  poesy,  vhium  dtemomun  ;  because  it   filleth  the 
imagination,  and  yet  it  is  but  with  the  shadow  of  a  lye. 
But  it  is  not  the  lye  that  passeth  through  the  mind, 
but  the   Jye  that  sinketh   in,  and  settleth  in  it,  that 
doth   the   hurt,  such   as   we    spake   of  before.     But 
howsoever  these  things  are  thus  in  mens  depraved 
judgments  and  affections,  yet  truth,  which  only  doth 
judge  itself,  teacheth,  that  the  inquiry  of  truth,  which 
is  the  love  making,  or  wooing  ot  it ;  the  knowledge 
of  truth,  which  is  the  presence  of  it ;  and  the  belief 
of  truth,  which  is  the  enjoying  of  it ;  is  the  sovereign 
good  of  human  nature.     The  first  creature  of  God, 
in  the  works  of  the  days,  was  the  light  of  the  sense  > 
the  last  was  the  light  of  reason ;  and  his  sabbath  work 
ever  since  is  the  illumination  of  his  Spirit.     First  he 
breathed  light  upon  the  face  of  the  matter,  or  chaos ; 
then  he  breathed  light  into  the  face  of  man  ;  and  still 
he  breatheth  and  inspireth  light  into  the  face  of  his 
chosen.     The  poet  that  beautified  the  sect,  that  was 
otherwise  inferior  to  the  rest,  saith  yet  excellently 
well :  "  It  is  a  pleasure  to  stand  upon  the  shore  and 
"  to  see  ships  tost  upon  the  sea  :  a  pleasure  to  stand 
*c  in  the  window  of  a  castle,  and  to  see  a  battle,  and 
<c  the  adventures  thereof  below  :  but  no  pleasure  is 
€C  comparable  to   the   standing    upon    the   vantage 
"  ground  of  truth,  a  hill  not  to  be  commanded,  and 
<c  where  the  air  is  always  clear  and  serene  :  and  to  see 
"  the  errors,  and  -wanderings,  and  mists,  and  tem- 
"  pests,  in  the  vale  below :"  so  always,  that  this  pros- 
pect be  with  pity,  and  not  with  swelling  or  pride. 
Certainly,  it  is  heaven  upon  earth,  to  have  a  man's 
mind  move  in   charity,  rest  in  providence,  and  turn 
upon  the  poles  of  truth. 

To  pass  from  theological  and  philosophical  truth, 
to  the  truth  of  civil  business ;  it  will  be  acknowledged, 
even  by  those  that  practise  it  not,  that  clear  and 
round  dealing  is  the  honour  of  man's  nature  ;  and  that 
mixture  of  falshood  is  like  allay  in  coin  of  gold  and 
silver  -,  which  may  make  the  metal  work  the  better, 
but  it  embaseth  it.  For  these  winding  and  crooked 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  255 

courses  are  the  goings  of  the  serpent;  which  goeth 
basely  upon  the  belly,  and  not  upon  the  feet.  There 
is  no  vice  that  doth  so  cover  a  man  with  shame,  as  to 
be  found  false  and  perfidious.  And  therefore  Mon- 
tague saith  prettily,  when  he  inquired  the  reason, 
why  the  word  of  the  lye  should  be  such  a  disgrace, 
and  such  an  odious  charge  ?  Saith  he,  "  If  it  be  well 
"  weighed,  to  say  a  man  lyeth,  is  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  that  he  is  brave  towards  God,  and  a  coward  towards 
"  men.  For  a  lye  faces  God,  and  shrinks  from  man/' 
Surely  the  wickedness  of  falshood,  and  breach  of 
faith,  cannot  possibly  be  so  highly  expressed,  as  in 
that  it  shall  be  the  last  peal  to  call  the  judgments  of 
God  upon  the  generations  of  men  :  it  being  foretold; 
that  when  Christ  cometh  lie  shall  not  find  faith  upon 
the  earth. 

II.   Of  DEATH. 

MEN  fear  death,  as  children  fear  to  go  in  the 
dark  :  and  as  that  natural  fear  in  children  is  increased 
with  tales,  so  is  the  other.  Certainly,  the  contempla- 
tion of  death,  as  the  wages  of  sin,  and  passage  to 
another  world,  is  holy  and  religious ;  but  the  fear  of 
it,  as  a  tribute  due  unto  nature,  is  weak.  Yet  in  re- 
ligious meditations,  there  js  sometimes  mixture  of 
vanity  and  of  superstition.  You  shall  read  in  some  of 
the  friars  books  of  mortification,  that  a  man  should 
think  with  himself,  what  the  pain  is,  if  he  have  but  his 
finger's  end  pressed  or  tortured ;  and  thereby  imagine 
what  the  pains  of  death  are,  when  the  whole  body  is 
corrupted  and  dissolved  ;  when  many  times  death 
passeth  with  less  pain  than  the  torture  of  a  limb  :  for 
the  most  vital  parts  are  not  the  quickest  of  sense. 
And  by  him  that  spake  only  as  a  philosopher,  and 
natural  man,  it  was  well  said,  Pompa  mortis  magis 
terret,  quam  mors  ipsa.  Groans,  and  convulsions,  and 
a  discoloured  face,  and  friends  weeping,  and  blacks, 
and  obsequies,  and  the  like,  shew  death  terrible.  It 
is  worthy  the  observing,  that  there  is  no  passion  in 
the  mind  of  man  so  weak,  but  it  mates  and  masters 
the  fear  of  death  :  and  therefore  death  is  no  such 
terrible  enemy,  when  a  man  hath  so  many  attendants 

256  Essays^  Civil  -and  Moral. 

about  him,  that  can  win  the  combat  of  him.  Revenge 
triumphs  over  death  ;  love  slights  it ;  honour  aspireth 
to  it  j  grief  flieth  to  it ;  fear  pre-occupateth  it :  nay, 
we  read,  after  Otho  the  emperor  had  slain  himself, 
pity,  which  is  the  tenderest  of  affections,  provoked 
many  to  die,  out  of  mere  compassion  to  their  sove- 
reign, and  as  the  truest  sort  of  followers.     Nay,  Se- 
neca adds,  niceness  and  satiety ;  cogita  quamdiu  eadem 
feceris ;  mori  velle,  non  tantum  fortis,  aut  miser  sed 
etiamfastidiosits  potest.  A  man  would  die,  though  he 
were  neither   valiant   nor   miserable,   only   upon    a 
weariness  to  do  the  same  thing  so  oft  over  and  over. 
It  is  no  less  worthy  to  observe,  how  little  alteration 
Ifn  good  spirits  the  approaches  of  death  make  ;  for 
they  appear  to  be  the  same  men  till  the  last  instant. 
Augustus  Caesar  died  in  a  compliment ;  Livia,  con- 
jugii  nostri  memor  vive,  et  vale.     Tiberius  in  dissimu- 
lation ;  as  Tacit  us  saith  pf  him  ;  Jam  Tiber  turn  vires  et 
corpus,,  non  dissimulation  deserebant.     Vespasian  in  a 
jest ;  sitting  upon  the  stool  ;  Ut  puto  Deusjio.   Galba 
with  a  sentence;    Feri,  si  ex  re  sit  populi  Romani  ; 
holding  forth  his  neck.  Septimius  Severus  in  dispatch  ; 
Adeste,  si  quid  mihi  restat  agendum :    and  the  like. 
Certainly  the  Stoics  bestowed  too  much  cost  upon 
death,  and  by  their  great  preparations  made  it  appear 
more   fearful.     Better   saith    he,  qui  finem  mice  ex- 
tremum  inter  mimcra  ponit  nature.     It  is  as  natural  to 
die,  as  to  be  born  ;  and  to  a  little  infant,  perhaps,  the 
One  is  as  painful  as  the  other.     He  that  dies  in  an 
earnest  pursuit,  is  like  one  that  is  wounded  in  hot 
blood ;    who,    for  the   time,   scarce  feels  the   hurt ; 
and  therefore  a  mind  fixt  and  bent  upon  somewhat 
that  is  good,  doth   avert  the   dolors  of  death :   but 
above  all,  believe  it,  the  sweetest  canticle  is,  Nunc. 
dimittis  ;  when  a  man  hath  obtained  worthy  ends  and 
expectations.     Death  hath  this  also  ;  that  it  openeth 
the  gate  to  good  fame,  and  extinguished!  envy.— 
amabitur  idem. 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  257 


RELIGION  being  the  chief  band  of  human  so- 
ciety, it  is  a  happy  thing,  when  itself  is  well  con- 
tained within  the  true  band  of  unity.  The  quarrels 
and  divisions  about  religion  were  evils  unknown  to 
the  heathen.  The  reason  was,  because  the  religion 
of  the  heathen  consisted  rather  in  rites  and  cere- 
monies, than  in  any  constant  belief.  For  you  may 
imagine  what  kind  of  faith  theirs  was,  when  the  chief 
doctors  and  fathers  of  their  church  were  the  poets. 
But  the  true  God  hath  this  attribute,  that  he  is  a 
jealous  God;  and  therefore  his  worship  and  religion 
will  endure  no  mixture  nor  partner.  We  shall  there- 
fore speak  a  few  words  concerning  the  unity  of  the 
church  ;  what  are  the  fruits  thereof;  what  the  bounds ; 
and  W7hat  the  means. 

The  fruits  of  unity,  next  unto  the  well-pleasing  of 
God,  which  is  all  in  all,  are  two ;  the  one  towards 
those  that  are  without  the  church  ;  the  other  towards 
those  that  are  within.  For  the  former;  it  is  certain, 
that  heresies  and  schisms  are  of  all  others  the  greatest 
scandals  ;  yea  more  than  corruption  of  manners.  For 
as  in  the  natural  body,  a  wound  or  solution  of  con- 
tinuity, is  worse  than  a  corrupt  humour  ;  so  in  the 
spiritual.  So  that  nothing  doth  so  much  keep  men 
out  of  the  church,  and  drive  men  out  of  the  church,  as 
breach  of  unity  :  and  therefore,  whensoever  it  cornel li 
to  that  pass,  that  one  saith,  CTO;J  in  deserto  ;  another  saith, 
ecce  in  penetralibus ;  that  is,  when  some  men  seek  Christ 
in  the  conventicles  of  heretics,  and  others  in  an  outward 
face  of  a  church,  that  voice  had  need  continually  to 
sound  in  men's  ears,  120/2/1  exire9go  not  out.  The  doctor 
of  the  Gentiles,  the  propriety  of  whose  vocation  drew 
him  to  have  a  special  care  of  those  without,  saith ;  If  an 
heathen  come  in,  and  hear  you  speak  i:ith  several  tongues, 
zcil{  he  not  say  that  you  are  mad  f  And  certainly  it  is 
little  better,  when  atheists,  and  profane  persons,  do 
hear  of  so  many  discordant  and  contrary  opinions  in 
religion  ;  it  doth  avert  them  from  the  church,  and 
niaketh  them  to  sit  down  in  the  chair  of  the  scorners* 

VOL.  ii.  s 

258  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

It  is  but  a  light  tiling  to  be  vouched  in  so  serious  a 
manner,  but  yet  it  expresseth  well  the  deformity  : 
There  is  a  master  of  scoffing  ;  that  in  his  catalogue 
of  books  of  a  feigned  library  sets  down  this  title  of 
a  book  ;  "  The  Morris  dance  of  Heretiques."  For 
indeed  every  sect  of  them  hath  a  diverse  posture  or 
cringe  by  themselves,  which  cannot  but  move  derision 
in  worldlings  and  depraved  politics,  who  are  apt  to 
contemn  holy  things. 

As  for  the  fruit  towards  those  that  are  within,  it  is 
peace;  which  containeth  infinite  blessings:  it  esta- 
bJisheth  faith:  it  kindleth  charity;  the  outward  peace 
of  the  church  distilleth  into  peace  o£  conscience  ;  and 
it  turneth  the  labours  of  writing  and  reading  of  con- 
troversies into  treatises  of  mortification  and  devotion. 

Concerning  the  bonds  of  unity  ;  the  true  placing  of 
them  importeth  exceedingly.  There  appear  to  be 
two  extremes.  For  to  certain  zealots  all  speech  of 
pacification  is  odious.  Is  it  peace,  Jehu?  What  hast 
thou  to  do  with  peace  ?  tarn  thee  behind  me.  Peace  is 
not  the  matter,  but  following  and  party.  Contrari- 
wise, certain  Laodiceans,  and  lukewarm  persons  think 
they  may  accommodate  points  of  religion  by  middle- 
ways,  and  taking  part  of  both,  and  witty  reconcile- 
ments-; as  if  they  would  make  an  arbitrament  between 
God  and  man.  Both  these  extremes  are  to  be  avoided  ; 
which  will  be  done,  if  the  league  of  Christians,  penned 
by  our  Saviour  himself,  were  in  the  two  cross  clauses 
thereof,  soundly  and  plainly  expounded  :  he  that  is  not 
with  us  is  against  us:  and  again,  he  that  is  not  against 
its  is  with  us :  that  is,  if  the  points  fundamental,  and 
of  substance,  in  religion,  were  truly  discerned  and  dis- 
tinguished from  points  not  merely  of  faith,  but  of 
opinion,  order  or  good  intention.  This  is  a  thing  may 
seem  to  many  a  matter  trivial,  and  done  already  ;  but 
if  it  were  done  less  partially,  it  would  be  embraced 
more  generally. 

Of  this  I  may  give  only  this  advice,  according  to 
my  small  model.  Men  ought  tOvtake  heed  of  rending 
God's  church  by  two  kinds  of  controversies.  The 
one  is,  when  the  matter  of  the  point  controverted  is 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral  259 

too  small  and  light,  not  worth  the  heat  and  strife 
about  it,  kindled  only  by  contradiction.  For,  as  it  is 
noted  by  one  of  the  fathers,  Christ's  coat  indeed  had 
no  seam ;  but  the  church's  vesture  was  of  divers  co- 
lours :  whereupon  he  saith,  in  veste  varielas  sit,  scis- 
sura  -non  sit ;  they  be  two  things,  unity  and  uniformity. 
The  other  is,  when  the  matter  of  the  point  contro- 
verted is  great;  but  it  is  driven  to  an  over-great  sub- 
tilty  and  obscurity ;  so  that  it  becometh  a  thing  rather 
ingenious  than  substantial.  A  man  that  is  of  judg- 
ment and  understanding,  shall  sometimes  hear  igno- 
rant men  differ,  and  know  well  within  himself,  that 
those  who  so  differ  mean  one  thing,  and  yet  they 
themselves  would  never  agree.  And  if  it  come  so  to 
pass  in  that  distance  of  judgment  which  is  between 
man  and  man,  shall  we  not  think  that  God  above, 
that  knows  the  heart,  doth  not  discern  that  frail  men, 
in  some  of  their  contradictions,  intend  the  same  thing, 
and  accepteth  of  both?  The  nature  of  such  contro- 
versies is  excellently  expressed  by'  St.  Paul,  in  the 
warning  and  precept  that  he  giveth  concerning  the 
same,  devita  prof  anas  vocum  novitateS)  et  oppositiones 
falsi  nominis  scientiig.  Men  create  oppositions  which 
are  not ;  and  put  them  into  new  terms  so  fixed,  as, 
whereas  the  meaning  ought  to  govern  the  term,  the 
term  in  effect  governeth  the  meaning.  There  be  also 
two  false  peaces  or  unities;  the  one  when  the  peace 
is  grounded  but  upon  an  implicit  ignorance ;  for  all 
colours  will  agree  in  the  dark  :  the  other,  when  it  is 
pieced  up  upon  a  direct  admission  of  contraries  in 
fundamental  points.  For  truth  and  falsehood,  in  such 
things,  are  like  the  iron  and  clay  in  the  tqes  of  Nebu- 
chadnezzar's image  $  they  may  cleave,  buf'they  will 
not  incorporate. 

Concerning  the  means  of  procuring  unity;  men 
must  beware,  that  in  the  procuring  or  rnuniting  of  re- 
ligious unity,  they  do  not  dissolve  and  deface  the  laws 
of  charity,  and  of  human  society.  There  be- two 
-swords  amongst  Christians,  the  spiritual  and  tempo- 
ral ;  and  both  have  their  due  office  and  place  in  the 
maintenance  of  religion.  But  we  may  not  take  up  the 

s  2 

260  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

third  sword,  which  is  Mahomet's  sword,  or  like  unto 
it ;  that  is,  to  propagate  religion  by  wars,  or  by  san- 
guinary persecutions  to  force  consciences;  except  it 
be  in  cases  of  overt  scandal,  blasphemy,  or  intermix- 
ture of  practice  against  the  state ;  much  Jess  to  nou- 
rish seditions;  to  authorise  conspiracies  and  rebel- 
lions ;  to  put  the  sword  into  the  peoples  hands,  and  the 
like,  tending  to  the  subversion,  of  all  government, 
which  is  the  ordinance  of  God.  For  this  is  but  to 
dash  the  first  table  against  the  second ;  and  so  to  con- 
sider men  as  Christians,  as  we  forget  that  they  are 
men.  Lucretius  the  poet,  when  he  beheld  the  act  of 
Agamemnon,  that  could  endure  the  sacrificing  of  his 
own  daughter,  exclaimed ; 

Tantum  religio  potuit  suadere  malorum. 
What  would  he  have  said,  if  he  had  known  of  the 
massacre  in  France,  or  the  powder-treason  of  Eng- 
land ?  He  would  have  been  seven  times  more  epi- 
cure and  atheist  than  he  was:  for  as  the  temporal 
sword  is  to  be  drawn  with  great  circumspection,  in 
cases  of  religion ;  so  it  is  a  thing  monstrous  to  put  it 
into  the  hands  of  the  common  people.  Let  that  be 
left  unto  the  anabaptists,  and  other  furies.  It  was 
great  blasphemy  when  the  devil  said,  I  will  ascend  and 
be  like  the  Highest ;  but  it  is  greater  blasphemy  to  per- 
sonate God,  and  bring  him  in,  saying/6  I  will  descend, 
"  and  be  like  the  prince  of  darkness."  And  what  is  it 
better  to  make  the  cause  of  religion  to  descend  to  the 
cruel  and  execrable  actions  of  murthering  princes, 
butchery  of  people,  and  subversion  of  states  and  go- 
vernments ?  Surely,  this  is  to  bring  down  the  Holy 
Ghost,  instead  of  the  likeness  of  a  dove,  in  the  shape 
of  a  vulture  or  raven:  and  to  set, out  of  the  bark  of  a 
Christian  church,  a  flag  of  a  bark  of  pirates  and  as- 
sassins. Therefore  it  is  most  necessary,  that  the 
church  by  doctrine  and  decree  ;  princes  by  their 
sword;  and  all  learning,  both  Christian  arid  moral,  as 
by  their  mercury  rod  ;  do  damn  and  send  to  hell  for 
ever  those  facts  and  opinions,  tending  to  the  support 
of  the  same  ;  as  hath  been  already  in  good  part  done. 
Surely  in  counsels  concerning  religion,  that  counsel  of 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  26 1 

the  apostle  should  be  prefixed  ;  Ira  hominis  non  implct 
justitiam  Dei.  And  it  was  a  notable  observation  of  a 
wise  father,  and  no  less  ingenuously  confessed  ;  That 
those  which  held  and  persuaded  pressure  of  con- 
sciences, were  commmonly  interested  therein  them- 
selves for  their  own  ends. 

IV.     Of  REVENGE. 

REVENGE  is  a   kind  of  wild  justice,  which  the 
more  man's  nature  runs  to,  the  more  ought   law  to 
weed  it  out.     For  as  for  the  first  wrong,  it  doth  but 
offend  the  law ;  but  the  revenge  of  that  wrong  putteth 
the  law  out  of  office.     Certainly  in  taking  revenge,  a 
man  is  but  even  with  his  enemy;  but  in  passing  it 
over,  he  is  superior  :  for  it  is  a  prince's  part  to  pardon. 
And  Solomon,  I  am   sure,  saith,  It  is  the  glory  of  a 
man  to  pass  by  an  offence.     That  which  is  past  is  gone 
and  irrevocable,  and  wise   men  have  enough  to  do 
with  things  present  and   to  come :  therefore  they  do 
but  trifle  with  themselves  that  labour  in  past  matters. 
There  is  no  man  doth  a  wrong  for  the  wrong's  sake ; 
but  thereby  to  purchase  himself  profit,  or  pleasure,  or 
honour,  or  the  like.     Therefore  why  should  I  be  an- 
gry with  a  man  for  loving  himself  better  than  me  ? 
And  if  any  man   should  do  wrong,  merely  out  of  ill 
nature,  why  ?  yet  it  is  but  like    the  thorn  or  brier, 
which  prick  and  scratch  because  they  can  do  no  other. 
The  most  tolerable  sort  of  revenge  is  for  those  wrongs 
which  there  is  no  law  to  remedy  :  but  then'let  a  man 
take  heed  the  revenge  be  such  as  there  is  no  law  to 
punish  ;  else  a  man's  enemy  is  still  beforehand,  and  it 
is  two  for  one.     Some,  when  they  take  revenge,  are 
desirous  the  party  should  know  whence  it    cometh  : 
this  is  the  more  generous.     For  the  delight  seemeth  to 
be  not  so  much  in  doing  the  hurt,  as  in  making  the 
party  repent :  but  base  and  crafty  cowards  are  like  the 
arrow  that  flieth  in  the  dark.     Cosmus,  duke  of  Flo- 
rence, had  a  desperate  saying   against  perfidious   or 
neglecting  friends,  as  if  those  wrongs  were  unpardon- 
able.    "  You  shall  read,  saith  he,   that  we  are  com- 
"  manded  to  forgive  our  enemies  ;  but  you  never  read, 

262  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

"  that  we  are  commanded  to  forgive  our  friends." 
But  yet  the  spirit  of  Job  was  in  a  better  tune  ;  Shalt 
zee,  saith  he,  take  good  at  God's  hands,  and  not  he  con- 
tent  to  take  evil  also?  And  so  of  friends  in  a  proportion. 
This  is  certain,  that  a  man  that  studieth  revenge, 
keeps  his  own  wounds  green,  which  otherwise  would 
heal,  and  do  well.  Public  revenges  are  for  the  most 
part  fortunate  :  as  that  for  the  death  of  Cassar ;  for  the 
death  of  Pertinax;  for  the  death  of  Henry  the  Third 
of  France ;  and  many  more ;  but  in  private  revenges 
it  is  not  so;  nay  rather,  vindictive  persons  live  the; 
life  of  witches  ;  who  as  they  are  mischievous,  so  end 
they  unfortunate. 

V.     Of  ADVERSITY. 

IT  was  an  high  speech  of  Seneca,  after  the  manner 
of  the  Stoics,  that  the  good  things  which  belong  tq 
prosperity  are  to  be  wished,  but  the  good  things  that 
belong  to  adversity  are  to  be  admired:  Bona  rennn 
secundarum  optabilia,  adders  arum  mirabilia.  Cer- 
tainly if  miracles  be  the  command  over  nature,  they 
appear  most  in  adversity.  It  is  yet  a  higher  speech 
of  his  than  the  other,  much  too  high  for  a  heathen,  It 
is  true  greatness  to  have  in  one  the  frailty  of  a  man, 
and  the  security  of  a  God  :  Vere  magnum,  habere  fra- 
giiitatem  hominis,  securitatem  Dei.  This  would  have 
done  better  in  poesy,  where  transcendencies  are  more 
allowed.  And  the  poets  indeed  have  been  busy  with 
it;  for  itisin  effect  the  thing  which  is  figured  in  that 
strange  fiction  of  the  ancient  poets,  which  seemeth  not 
to  be  without  mystery  ;  nay,  and  to  have  some  ap^ 
proach  to  the  state  of  a  Christian:  that  Hercules, 
when  he  went  to  unbind  Prometheus,  by  whom  hu- 
man nature  is  represented,  sailed  the  length  of  the 
great  ocean  in  an  earthen  pot  or  pitcher;  lively  de- 
scribing Christian  resolution,  that  saileth  in  the  frail 
bark'of  the  flesh  through  the  waves  of  the  world.  Hut 
to  speak  in  a  mean:  the  virtue  of  prosperity  is  tem- 
perance; the  virtue. of  adversity  is  fortitude;  which 
in  morals  is  the  more  heroical  virtue.  Prosperity  is 
the  blessing  of  the  Old  Testament ;  adversity  is  the 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  263 

blessing  of  the  New,  which  carrieth  the  greater  bene- 
diction, and  the  clearer  revelation  of  God's  favour. 
Yet,  even  in  the  Old  Testament,  if  you  listen  to  Da- 
vid's harp,  you  shall  hear  as  many  hearse-like  airs  as 
carols:  and  the  pencil  of  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  la- 
boured more  in  describing  the  afflictions  of  Job  than 
the  felicities  of  Solomon.  Prosperity  is  not  without 
many  fears  and  distastes  ;  and  adversity  is  not  without 
comforts  and  hopes.  We  see  in  needle-works  and 
embroideries,  it  is  more  pleasing  to  have  a  lively  work 
upon  a  sad  and  solemn  ground,  than  to  have  a  dark 
and  melancholy  work  upon  a  lightsome  ground  :  judge 
therefore  of  the  pleasure  of  the  heart  by  the  pleasure 
of  the  eye.  Certainly  virtue  is  like  precious  odours, 
most  fragrant  when  they  are  incensed,  or  crushed; 
for  prosperity  doth  best  discover  vice,  but  adversity 
doth  best  discover  virtue. 


DISSIMULATION  is  but  a  faint  kind  of  policy, 
or  wisdom  ;  for  it  asketh  a  strong  wit,  and  a  strong 
heart,  to  know  when  to  tell  truth,  and  to  do  it. 
Therefore  it  is  the  weaker  sort  of  politicians  that  are 
the  great  dissemblers. 

Tacitus  saith,  Livia  sorted  well  with  the  arts  of  her 
husband,  and  dissimulation  of  her  son;  attributing 
arts  or  policy  to  Augustus,  and  dissimulation  to  Tibe- 
rius. And  again,  when  Mucianus  encourageth  Ves- 
pasian to  take  arms  against  Vitellius,  he  saith  ;  We 
rise  not  against  the  piercing  judgment  of  Augustus, 
nor  the  extreme  caution  or  closeness  of  Tiberius. 
These  properties  of  arts  or  policy,  arvd  dissimulation 
or  closeness,  are  indeed  habits  and  faculties  several, 
and  to  be  distinguished.  For  if  a  man  have  that  pe- 
netration of  judgment  as  he  can  discern  what  things 
are  to  be  laid  open,  and  what  to  be  secreted,  and  what 
to  be  shewed  at  half  lights,  and  to  whom  and  when, 
which  indeed  are  arts  of  state,  and  arts  of  life,  as  Ta- 
citus well  calleth  them,  to  him  a  habit  of  dissimula- 
tion is  a  hindrance  and  a  poorness.  But  if  a  man 
cannot  obtain  to  that  judgment,  then  it  is  left  to  him, 

264  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

generally  to  be  close  and  a  dissembler.  For  where  a 
man  cannot  choose,  or  vary  in  particulars,  there  it  is 
good  to  take  the  safest  and  wariest  way  in  general; 
like  the  going  softly  by  one  that  cannot  well  see. 
Certainly  the  ablest  men  that  ever  were,  have  had  all 
an  openness  and  frankness  of  dealing,  and  a  name  of 
certainty  and  veracity;  but  then  they  were  like  horses 
well  managed  ;  for  they  could  tell  passing  well  when 
to  stop  or  turn :  and  at  such  times,  when  they  thought 
the  case  indeed  required  dissimulation,  if  then  they 
used  it,  it  came  to  pass,  that  the  former  opinion  spread 
abroad  of  their  good  faith  and  clearness  of  dealing 
made  them  almost  invisible. 

There  be  three  degrees  of  this  hiding  and  veiling  of 
a  man's  self.  The  first,  closeness,  reservation,  and 
secrecy,  when  a  man  leaveth  himself  without  obser- 
vation, or  without  hold  to  be  taken,  what  he  is.  The 
second,  dissimulation  in  the  negative,  when  a  man 
Jets  fall  signs  and  arguments,  that  he  is  not  that  he  is. 
And  the  third,  simulation  in  the  affirmative,  when  a 
man  industriously  and  expressly  feigns  and  pretends  to 
be  that  he  is  not. 

For  the  first  of  these,  secrecy;  it  is  indeed  the  virtue 
of  a  confessor ;  and  assuredly  the  secret  man  heareth 
many  confessions ;  for  who  will  open  himself  to  a 
blab  or  a  babbler  ?  but  if  a  man  be  thought  secret,  it 
inviteth  discovery;  as  the  more  close  air  sucketh  in 
the  more  open  :  and  as  in  confession  the  revealing  is 
not  for  worldly  use,  but  for  the  ease  of  a  man's  heart; 
so  secret  men  come  to  knowledge  of  many  things  in 
that  kind;  while  men  rather  discharge  their  minds 
than  impart  their  minds.  In  few  words,  mysteries  are 
due  to  secrecy.  Besides,  to  say  the  truth,  nakedness  is 
uncomely  as  well  in  mind  as  body;  and  it  addeth  no 
small  reverence  to  mens  manners  and  actions  it  they 
be  not  altogether  open.  As  for  talkers  and  futile  per- 
sons, they  are  commonly-  vain  and  credulous  withal. 
For  he  that  talketh  what  he  knoweth,  will  also  talk 
what  he  knoweth  not.  Therefore  set  it  down,  that 
an  habit  of  secrecy  is  both  politic  and  moral.  And  in 
this  part  it  is  good  that  a  man's  face  give  his  tongue 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  265 

leave  to  speak.  For  the  discovery  of  a  man's  self  by 
the  tracts  of  his  countenance  is  a  great  weakness  in 
betraying ;  by  how  much  it  is  many  times  more 
marked  and  believed  than  a  man's  words. 

For  the  second,  which  is  dissimulation ;  it  followeth 
many  times  upon  secrecy,  by  a  necessity  :  so  that  he 
that  will  be  secret  must  be  a  dissembler  in  some  de- 
gree. For  men  are  too  cunning  to  suffer  a  man  to 
keep  an  indifferent  carriage  between  both,  and  to  be 
secret  without  swaying  the  balance  on  either  side. 
They  will  so  beset  a  man  with  questions,  and  draw 
him  on,  and  pick  it  out  of  him,  that,  without  an  ab- 
surd silence,  he  must  shew  an  inclination  one  way  ;  or 
if  he  do  not,  they  will  gather  as  much  by  his  silence 
as  by  his  speech.  As  for  equivocations  or  oraculous 
speeches,  they  cannot  hold  out  long.  So  that  no 
man  can  be  secret,  except  he  give  himself  a  little 
scope  of  dissimulation  ,  which  is  as  it  were  but  the 
skirts  or  train  of  secrecy. 

But  for  the  third  degree,  which  is  simulation  and 
false  profession;  that  I  hold  more  culpable  and  less 
politic,  except  it  be  in  great  and  rare  matters.  And 
therefore  a  general  custom  of  simulation,  which  is  this 
last  degree,  is  a  vice  rising  either  of  a  natural  false- 
ness or  fearfulness,  or  of  a  mind  that  hath  some  main 
faults;  which  because  a  man  must  needs  disguise,  it 
maketh  him  practise  simulation  in  other  things,  lest 
his  hand  should  be  out  of  use. 

The  great  advantages  of  simulation  and  dissimula- 
tion are  three.  First,  to  lay  asleep  opposition,  and  to 
surprise.  For  where  a  man's  intentions  are  pub- 
lished, it  is  an  alarm  to  call  up  all  that  are  against 
them.  The  second  is,  to  reserve  to  a  man's  self  a  fair 
retreat :  for  if  a  man  engage  himself  by  a  manifest  de- 
claration, he  must  go  through,  or  take  a  fall.  The 
third  is,  the  better  to  discover  the  mind  of  another. 
For  to  him  that  opens  himself,  men  will  hardly  shew 
themselves  adverse;  but  will  fairly  let  him  go  on,  and 
turn  their  freedom  of  speech  to  freedom  of  thought. 
And  therefore  it  is  a  good  shrewd  proverb  of  the  Spa- 
niard, Tell  a  lie,  and  find  a  truth.  As  if  there  were 

266  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

no  way  of  discovery  but  by  simulation.  There  be  also 
three  disadvantages  to  set  it  even.  The  first,  that  si- 
mulation and  dissimulation  commonly  carry  with 
them  a  shew  of  Tearfulness,  which  in  any  business  doth 
spoil  the  feathers  of  round  riving  up  to  the  mark.  The 
second,  that  it  puzzleth  and  perplexeth  the  conceits 
of  many,  that  perhaps  would  otherwise  co-operate 
with  him;  and  makes  a  man  walk,  almost  alone,  to 
his  own  ends.  The  third  and  greatest  is,  that  it  de- 
priveth  a  man  of  one  of  the  most  principal  instru- 
ments for  action ;  which  is  trust  and  belief.  The 
best  composition  and  temperature  is,  to  have  open- 
ness in  fame  and  opinion;  secrecy  in  habit ;  dissimu- 
lation in  seasonable  use  ;  and  a  power  to  feign,  if  there 
be  no  remedy. 


THE  joys  of  parents  are  secret ;  and  so  are  their 
griefs  and  fears  :  they  cannot. utter  the  one,  nor  they 
will  not  utter  the  other.  Children  sweeten  labours ; 
but  they  make  misfortunes  more  bitter:  they  increase 
the  cares  of  life,  but  they  mitigate  the  remembrance  of 
death.  The  perpetuity  by  generation  is  common  to 
beasts;  but  memory,  merit,  and  noble  works  are  pro- 
per to  men:  and  surely  a  man  shall  see  the  noblest 
works  and  foundations  have  proceeded  from  childless 
men  ;  which  have  sought  to  express  the  images  of 
their  minds,  where  those  of  their  bodies  have  failed  : 
so  the  care  of  posterity  is  most  in  them  that  have  no 
posterity.  They  that  are  the  first  raisers  of  their 
houses,  are  most  indulgent  towards  their  children  ; 
beholding  them  as  the  continuance,  not  only  of  their 
kind,  but  of  their  work  j  and  so  both  children  and 

The  difference  in  affection  of  parents  towards  their 
several  children  is  many  times  unequal;  and  some- 
times unworthy;  especially  in  the  mother;  as  Solo- 
mon saith,  A  irise.  son  rejoice  I  li  the  fat  her,  hut  an  ungra- 
cious son  shames  the  mother.  A  man  shall  see,  where 
there  is  a  house  kill  of  children,  one  or  two  of  the 
eldest  respected,  and  the  youngest  made  wantons; 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  267 

but  in  the  midst,  some  that  are  as  it  were  forgotten,  who 
many  times  nevertheless  prove  the  best.  The  illibera- 
]ity  of  parents  in  allowance  towards  their  children,  is 
an  harmful  error;  makes  them  base;  acquaints  them 
with  shifts;  makes  them  sort  with  mean  company; 
and  makes  them  surfeit  more  when  they  come  to 
plenty:  and  therefore  the  proof  is  best  when  men 
keep  their  authority  towards  their  children,  but  not 
their  purse.  Men  have  a  foolish  manner,  both  pa- 
rents and  school-masters,  and  servants,  in  creatingand 
breeding  an  emulation  between  brothers,  during 
childhood,  which  many  times  sorteth  to  discord  when 
they  are  men,  and  disturbeth  families.  The  Italians 
make  little  difference  between  children  and  nephews, 
or  near  kinsfolks;  but  so  they  be  of  the  lump  they  care 
not,  though  they  pass  not  through  their  own  body. 
And,  to  say  truth,  in  nature  it  is  much  a  like  matter; 
insomuch  that  we  see  a  nephew  sometimes  resembleth 
an  uncle,  or  a  kinsman,  more  than  his  own  parent;  as 
the  blood  happens.  Let  parents  choose  betimes  the 
vocations  and  courses  they  mean  their  children  should 
take;  fqr  then  they  are  most  flexible,  and  let  them 
not  too  much  apply  themselves  to  the  dispositions  of 
their  children,  as  thinking  they  will  take  best  to  that 
which  they  have  most  mind  to.  It  is  true,  that  if  the 
affection  or  aptness  of  the  children  be  extraordinary, 
then  it  is  good  not  to  cross  it;  but  generally  the  precept  ' 
is  good,  Optimum  elige,  suave  et  facile  illudfacict  con- 
siwtudo.  Younger  brothers  are  commonly  fortunate, 
but  seldom  or  never  where  the  elder  are  disinherited. 


HE  that  hath  wife  and  children,  hath  given  hos- 
tages to  fortune  ;  for  they  are  impediments  to  great 
enterprises,  either  of  virtue  or  mischief.  Certainly  the 
best  works  and  of  greatest  merit  for  the  public,  have 
proceeded  from  the  unmarried  or  childless  men : 
which  both  in  affection  and  means  have  married  and 
endowed  the  public.  Yet  it  were  great  reason,  that 
those  that  have  children  should  have  greatest  care 
of  future  times  j  unto  which  they  know  they  must 

26S  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

transmit  their  dearest  pledges.     Some  there  are,  who 
though  they  lead   a  single  life,  yet  their  thoughts  do 
end  with  themselves,  and  account  future  times  imper- 
tinences.    Nay,  there  are  some  other,  that  account 
wife  and  children  but  as  bills  of  charges.     Nay  more, 
there  are  some  foolish  rich  covetous  men,  that  take  a 
pride   in  having  no  children,  because  they  may   be 
thought  so  much  the  richer.     For  perhaps  they  have 
heard  some  talk,  Such  a  one  is  a  great  rich  man;  and 
another  except  to  it,  Yea,  but  he  hath  a  great  charge  of 
children :  as  if  it   were  an  abatement  to  his  riches. 
But  the  most  ordinary  cause  of  a  single  life  is  liberty; 
especially    in    certain  self-pleasing    and    humourous 
minds,  which  are  so  sensible  of  every  restraint,  as 
they  will  go  near  to  think  their  girdles  and  garters  to 
be    bonds   and  shackles.      Unmarried  men  are  best 
friends,  best  masters,  best  servants,  but  not  always 
best  subjects ;  for  they  are  light  to  run  away  ;  and  al- 
most all  fugitives  are  of  that  condition.     A  single  life 
doth  well  with  churchmen  :    for  charity  will  hardly 
water  the  ground,  where  it  must  first  fill  a  pool.  It  is 
indifferent  for  judges  and  magistrates:  for  if  they  be 
facile  and  corrupt,  you  shall  have  a  servant  five  times 
worse  than  a  wife.     For  soldiers,  I  find  the  generals 
commonly,  in  their  hortatives,  put  men  in  mind  of 
their  wives  and  children.     And  I  think  the  despising 
of  marriage  amongst  the  Turks,  maketh  the    vulgar 
soldiers  more  base.     Certainly,  wife  and  children  are 
a    kind  of  discipline  of  humanity  :  and  single  men, 
though  they  be  many  times  more  charitable,  because 
their  means  are  less  exhausted  ;  yet  on  the  other  side, 
they  are  more  cruel  and  hard-hearted,  good  to  make 
severe  inquisitors,  because  their  tenderness  is  not  so 
oft  called  upon.     Grave  natures,  led  by  custom,  and 
therefore  constant,  are  commonly  loving  husbands ; 
as  was  said  of  Ulysses,  vetulam  suam  pnetulit  immor- 
talitati.    Chaste  women  are  often  proud  and  froward, 
as  presuming  upon  the  merit  of  their  chastity.     It  is 
one  of  the  best  bonds,  both  of  chastity  and  obedience, 
in  the  wife,  if  she  think  her  husband  wise  ;  which  she 
will  never  do  if  she  find   him  jealous.     Wives  are 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  269 

young  mens  mistresses  ;  companions  for  middle  age  ; 
and  old  mens  nurses.  So  as  a  man  may  have  a  quarrel 
to  marry  when  he  will.  But  yet  he  was  reputed  one 
of  the  wise  men,  that  made  answer  to  the  question, 
when  a  man  should  marry  ?  "  A  young  man  not  yet, 
"  an  elder  man  not  at  all."  It  is  often  seen,  that 
bad  husbands  have  very  good  wives ;  whether  it  be, 
that  it  raiseth  the  price  of  their  husband's  kindness 
when  it  comes  ;  or  that  the  wives  take  a  pride  in  their 
patience.  But  this  never  fails  if  the  bad  husbands 
were  of  their  own  chusing,  against  their  friends  con- 
sent ;  for  then  they  will  be  sure  to  make  good  their 
own  folly. 

IX.    Qf  ENVY. 

THERE  be  none  of  the  affections  which  have  been 
noted  to  fascinate  or  bewitch,  but  love  and  envy. 
They  both  have  vehement  wishes ;  they  frame  them- 
selves readily  into  imaginations  and  suggestions  :  and 
they  come  easily  into  the  eye  ;  especially  upon  the 
presence  of  the  objects  \  which  are  the  points  that 
conduce  to  fascination,  if  any  such  thing  there  be.  We 
see  likewise,  the  Scripture  calleth  envy  an  evil  eye : 
and  the  astrologers  call  the  evil  influences  of  the  stars, 
evil  aspects ;  so  that  still  there  seemeth  to  be  acknow- 
ledged in  the  act  of  envy,  an  ejaculation,  or  irradia- 
tion of  the  eye.  Nay,  some  have  been  so  curious,  as 
to  note,  that  the  times  when  the  stroke  or  percussion 
of  an  envious  eye  doth  most  hurt,  are,  when  the  party 
envied  is  beheld  in  glory  or  triumph  ;  for  that  sets  an 
edge  upon  envy  :  and  besides,  at  such  times,  the 
spirits  of  the  person  envied  do  come  forth  most  into 
the  outward  parts,  and  so  meet  the  blow. 

But  leaving  these  curiosities,  though  not  unworthy 
to  be  thought  on  in  fit  place,  we  will  handle,  what 
persons  are  apt  to  envy  others;  what  persons  are 
most  subject  to  be  envied  themselves;  and  what  is  the 
difference  between  public  and  private  envy. 

A  man  that  hath  no  virtue  in  himself,  ever  envieth 
virtue  in  others.  For  mens  minds  will  either  feed 
upon  their  own  good,  or  upon  others  evil ;  and  who 

270  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

wanteth  the  one,  will  prey  upon  the  other:  and  whoso 
is  out  of  hope  to  attain  another's  virtue,  will  seek  to 
come  at  e\cn  hand  by  depressing  another's  fortune. 

A  man  that  is  busy  and  inquisitive,  is  commonly  en- 
vious: for  to  know  much  of  other  mens  matters  cannot 
be,  because  all  that  ado  may  concern  his  own  estate  : 
therefore  it  must  needs  be,  that  he  taketh  a  kind  of 
play-pleasure  in  looking  upon  the  fortunes  of  others  ; 
neither  can  he  that  mindeth  but  his  own  business  find 
much  matter  for  envy.  For  envy  is  a  gadding  pas- 
sion, and  walketh  the  streets,  and  doth  not  keep  at 
home  :  Non  est  curios  us,  quin  idem  sit  malei'olus. 

Men  of  noble  birth  are  noted  to  be  envious  towards 
new  men  when  they  rise  :  for  the  distance  is  altered  ; 
and  it  is  like  a  deceit  of  the  eye,  that  when  others 
come  on,  they  think  themselves  go  back. 

Deformed  persons  and  eunuchs,  and  old  men  and 
bastards,  are  envious  :  for  he  that  cannot  possibly 
mend  his  own  case,  will  do  what  he  can  to  impair 
another's ;  except  these  defects  light  upon  a  very 
brave  and  heroical  nature,  which  thinketh  to  make  . 
his  natural  wants  part  of  his  honour ;  in  that  it  should 
be  said,  that  an  eunuch  or  a  lame  man  did  such  great 
matters  \  affecting  the  honour  of  a  miracle  :  as  it  was 
in  Narses  the  eunuch,  and  Agesilaus  and  Tamerlane, 
that  were  lame  men. 

The  same  is  the  case  of  men  that  rise  after  calami- 
ties and  misfortunes ;  for  they  are  as  men  fallen  out 
with  the  times ;  and  think  other  mens  harms  a  re- 
demption of  their  own  sufferings. 

They  that  desire  to  excel  in  too  many  matters,  out 
of  levity  and  vain-glory,  are  ever  envious,  for  they 
cannot  want  work  ;  it  being  impossible  but  many, 
in  some  one  of  those  things,  should  surpass  them. 
Which  wras  the  character  of  Adrian  the  emperor,  that 
mortally  envied  poets,  and  painters,  and  artificers, 
in  works  wherein  he  had  a  vein  to  excel. 

Lastly,  near  kinsfolks,  and  fellows  in  office,  and 
those  that  have  been  bred  together,  are  more  apt  to 
envy  their  equals  when  they  are  raised.  For  it  doth 
upbraid  unto  them  their  own  fortunes,  and  pointeth 

Essays  y  Citiil  and  Mordl.  27 1 

at  them,  and  cometh  oftener  into  their  remembrance, 
and  incurreth  likewise  more  into  the  note  of  others; 
and  envy  ever  redoubleth  from  speech  and  fame. 
Cain's  envy  was  the  more  vile  and  malignant  towards 
his  brother  Abel,  because,  when  his  sacrifice  was 
better  accepted,  there  was  no  body  to  look  on.  Tims 
much  for  those  that  are  apt  to  envy. 

Concerning  those  that  are  more  or  less  subject  to 
envy :  First,  persons  of  eminent  virtue,  when  they 
are  advanced,  are  less  envied.  For  their  fortune 
seemeth  but  due  unto  them  ;  and  no  man  envieth  the 
payment  of  a  debt,  but  rewards,  and  liberality  rather. 
Again,  envy  is  ever  joined  with  the  comparing  of  a 
man's  self;  and  where  there  is  no  comparison,  no 
envy;  and  therefore  kings  are  not  envied  but  by  kings. 
Nevertheless  it  is  to  be  noted,  that  unworthy  persons 
are  most  -envied  at  their  first  coming  in,  and  after- 
wards overcome  it  better ;  whereas  contrariwise, 
persons  of  worth  and  merit  are  most  envied  when  their 
fortune  continueth  long.  For  by  that  time,  though 
their  virtue  be  the  same,  yet  it  hath  not  the  same 
lustre;  for  fresh  men  grow  up  that  darken  it. 

Persons  of  noble  blood  are  less  envied  in  their  ris- 
ing; for  it  seemeth  but  right  done  to  their  birth  :  be- 
sides, there  seemeth  not  much  added  to  their  fortune  ; 
and  envy  is  as  the  sun-beams,  that  beat  hotter  upon 
a  bank  or  steep  rising  ground  than  upon  a  flat.  And 
for  the  same  reason,  those  that  are  advanced  by  de- 
grees, are  less  envied  than  those  that  are  advanced 
suddenly,  and  per  saltinn. 

Those  that  have  joined  with  their  honour,  great 
travels,  cares,  or  perils,  are  less  subject  to  envy  :  for 
men  think  that  they  earn  their  honours  hardly,  and 
pity  them  sometimes;  and  pity  ever  healeth  envy: 
wherefore  you  shall  observe,  that  the  more  deep  and 
sober  sort  of  politic  persons,  in  their  greatness,  are 
ever  bemoaning  themselves  what  a  life  they  lead, 
chanting  a  Quanta  patimur  :  not  that  they  feel  it  so, 
but  only  to  abate  the  edge  of  envy.  But  this  is  to  be 
understood  of  business  that  is  laid  upon  men,  and  not 
such  as  they  call  unto  themselves ;  for  nothing  ia- 

272  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

creaseth  envy  more,  than  an  unnecessary  and  ambi- 
tious ingrossing  of  business:  and  nothing  doth  extin- 
guish envy  more,  than  for  a  great  person  to  preserve 
all  other  inferior  officers  in  their  full  rights  and  pre- 
eminences of  their  places  :  for  by  that  means  there  be 
so  many  screens  between  him  and  envy. 

Above  all,  those  are  most  subject  to  envy,  which 
carry  the  greatness  of  their  fortunes  in  an  inso- 
lent and  proud  manner;  being  never  well  but  while 
they  are  shewing  how  great  they  are,  either  by  out- 
ward pomp,  or  by  triumphing  over  all  opposition  or 
competition  :  whereas  wise  men  will  rather  do  sacri- 
fice to  envy,  in  suffering  themselves  sometimes  of  pur- 
pose to  be  crossed  and  overborn  in  things  that  do  not 
much  concern  them.  Notwithstanding,  so  much  is 
true  :  that  the  carriage  of  greatness  in  a  plain  and 
open  manner,  so  it  be  without  arrogancy  and  vain- 
glory, doth  draw  less  envy,  than  if  it  be  in  a  more 
crafty  and  cunning  fashion.  For  in  that  course  a  man 
doth  but  disavow  fortune,  and  seemeth  to  be  con- 
scious of  his  own  want  in  worth,  and  doth  but  teach 
others  to  envy  him. 

Lastly,  to  conclude  this  part ;  as  we  said  in  the  be- 
ginning, that  the  act  of  envy  had  somewhat  in  it  of 
witchcraft,  so  there  is  no  other  cure  of  envy,  but  the 
cure  of  witchcraft :  and  that  is,  to  remove  the  lot,  as 
they  call  it,  and  to  lay  it  upon  another.  For  which 
purpose,  the  wiser  sort  of  great  persons  bring  in  ever 
upon  the  stage  somebody  upon  whom  to  derive  the 
envy  that  would  come  upon  themselves  ;  sometimes 
upon  ministers  and  servants,  sometimes  upon  col- 
leagues and  associates,  and  the  like :  and  for  that 
turn,  there  are  never  wanting  some  persons  of  violent 
and  undertaking  natures,  who,  so  they  may  have 
power  and  business,  will  take  it  at  any  cost. 

Now  to  speak  of  public  envy.  There  is  yet  some 
good  in  public  envy,  whereas  in  private  there  is  none. 
For  public  envy  is  as  an  ostracism,  that  eclipseth  men 
when  they  grow  too  great:  and  therefore  it  is  a  bridle 
also  to  great  ones,  to  keep  them  within  bounds. 

This  envy,  being  in  the  Latin  word  invidia,  goeth 
in  the  modern  languages  by  the  name  of  discontent* 

Essay  Sy  Civil  and  Moral.  273 

ment ;  of  which  we  shall  speak  in  handling  sedition. 
It  is  a  disease  in  a  state  like  to  infection  :  for  as  in- 
fection spreadeth  upon  that  which  is  sound,  and  taint- 
cth  it ;  so  when  envy  is  gotten  once  into  a  state,  it 
traduceth  even  the  best  actions  thereof,  and  turneth 
them  into  an  ill  odour;  and  therefore  there  is  little 
won  by  intermingling  of  plausible  actions  :  for  that 
doth  argue  but  a  weakness  and  fear  of  envy,  which 
hurteth  so  much  the  more;  as  it  is  likewise  usual  in 
infections,  which  if -you  fear  them,  you  call  them 
upon  you. 

This  public  envy  seemeth  to  beat  chiefly  upon  prin- 
cipal officers  or  ministers,  rather  than  -upon  kings  and 
estates  themselves.  But  this  is  a  sure  rule,  that  if 
the  envy  upon  the  minister  be  great,  when  the  cause 
of  it  in  him  is  small ;  or  if  the  envy  be  general  in  a 
manner  upon  all  the  ministers  of  an  estate,  then  the 
envy,  though  hidden,  is  truly  upon  the  state  itself. 
And  so  much  of  public  envy  or  discontentment,  and 
the  difference  thereof  from  private  envy,  which  was 
handled  in  the  first  place. 

We  will  add  this  in  general  touching  the  affection 
of  envy:  that  of  all  other  affections,  it  is  the  most 
importunate  and  continual  :  for  of  other  affections 
there  is  occasion  given  but  now  and  then;  and  there- 
fore it  is  well  said,  Invidia  fcstos  dies  non  aglt :  for  it  is 
ever  working  upon  some  or  other.  And  it  is  also  noted, 
that  love  and  envy  do  make  a  man  pine,  which  other 
affections  do  not,  because  they  are  not  so  continual. 
It  is  also  the  vilest  affection,  and  the  most  depraved  ; 
for  which  cause  it  is  the  proper  attribute  of  the  devil, 
\vho  is  called,  the  envious  man^  that  soiceth  tares  amongst 
the  wheat  by  night:  as  it  always  comcth  to  pass,  that 
envy  worketh  subtilly,  and  in  the  dark;  and  to  the 
prejudice  of  good  things,  such  as  is  the  wheat. 

X.    Of  LOVE. 

THE  stage  is  more  beholden  to  love,  than  the  life 
of  man.  For  as  to  the  stage,  love  is  ever  matter  of 
comedies,  and  now  and  then  of  tragedies ;  but  in 
lite  it  doth  much  mischief,  sometimes  like  a  siren, 

VOL.  II.  X 

274-  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

sometimes  like  a  fury.  You  may  observe,  that  amongst 
all  the  great  and  worthy  persons,  whereof  the  memory 
remaineth,  either  ancient  or  recent,  there  is  not  one 
that  hath  been  transported  to  the  mad  degree  of  love  ; 
which  shews,  that  great  spirits  and  great  business  do 
keep  out  this  weak  passion.  You  must  except  ne- 
vertheless Marcus  Antonius  the  partner  of  the  em- 
pire of  Rome,  and  Appius  Claudius  the  decemvir  and 
lawgiver ;  whereof  the  former  was  indeed  a  volup- 
tuous man  and  inordinate;  but  the  latter  was  an  aus- 
tere and  wise  man  :  and  therefore  it  seems,  though 
rarely,  that  love  can  find  entrance,  not  only  into  an 
open  heart,  but  also  into  a  heart  well  fortified,  if 
watch  be  not  well  kept.  It  is  a  poor  saying  of  Epi- 
curus ;  Satis  magnum  alter  alteri  theatrum  sumus  :  as 
if  man,  made  for  the  contemplation  of  heaven,  and 
all  noble  objects,  should  do  nothing  but  kneel  before 
a  little  idol,  and  make  himself  the  subject  though  not 
of  the  mouth,  as  beasts  are,  yet  of  the  eye,  which 
was  given  him  for  higher  purposes.  It  is  a  strange 
thing  to  note  the  excess  of  this  passion  ;  and  how  it 
braves  the  nature  and  value  of  things  by  this,  that  the 
speaking  in  a  perpetual  hyperbole  is  comely  in  no- 
thing but  in  love.  Neither  is  it  merely  in  the  phrase  j 
for  whereas  it  hath  been  well  said,  that  the  arch  flat- 
terer, with  whom  all  the  petty  flatterers  have  intelli- 
gence, is  a  man's  self;  certainly  the  lover  is  more. 
For  there  was  never  proud  man  thought  so  absurdly 
well  of  himself,  as  the  lover  doth  of  the  person  loved  ; 
and  therefore  it  was  well  said,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  love,  and  to  be  wise.  Neither  doth  this  weak- 
ness appear  to  others  only,  and  not  to  the  party  loved, 
but  to  the  loved  most  of  all;  except  the  love  be  reci- 
procal. For  it  is  a  true  rule,  that  love  is  ever  re- 
warded either  with  the  reciprocal,  or  with  an  inward 
and  secret  contempt:  by  how  much  the  more  men 
ought  to  beware  of  this  passion,  which  loseth  not  only 
other  things,  but  itself.  As  for  the  other  losses,  the 
poet's  relation  doth  well  figure  them  ;  that  he  that 
preferred  Helena,  quitted  the  gifts  of  Juno  and  Pallas: 
for  whoboever  estccmeth  too  much  of  amorous  affec- 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  275 

tion,  quitteth  both  riches  and  wisdom.  This  passion 
hath  its  floods  in  the  very  times  of  weakness,  which 
are  great  prosperity,  and  great  adversity;  though  this 
Jatter  hath  been  less  observed :  both  which  times 
kindle  love,  and  make  it  more  fervent,  and  therefore 
shew  it  to  be  the  child  of  folly.  They  do  best,  who, 
if  they  cannot  but  admit  love,  yet  make  it  keep  quar- 
ter ;  and  sever  it  only  from  their  serious  affairs  and 
actions  of  life:  for  if  it  check  once  with  business,  it 
troubleth  mens  fortunes,  and  maketh  men  that  they 
can  no  ways  be  true  to  their  own  ends.  I  know  not 
how,  but  martial  men  are  given  to  love ::  1  think  it 
is,  but  as  they  are  given  to  wine  ;  for  perils  com- 
monly ask  to  be  paid  in  pleasures.  There  is  in  man's 
nature  a  secret  inclination  and  motion  towards  love 
of  others,  which,  if  it  be  not  spent  upon  some  one  or 
a  few,  doth  naturally  spread  itself  towards  many,  and 
maketh  men  become  humane  and  charitable  ;  as  it  is 
seen  sometimes  in  friers.  Nuptial  love  maketh  man- 
kind ;  friendly  love  perfecteth  it ;  but  wanton  love 
corrupteth  and  embaseth  it. 

XL     Of  GREAT PL  ACE. 

MEN  in  great  place  are  thrice  servants :  servants 
of  the  sovereign  or  state  •;  servants  of  fame ;  and 
servants  of  business :  so  as  they  have  no  freedom,  nei- 
ther in  their  persons,  nor  in  their  actions,  nor  in  their 
times.  It  is  a  strange  desire,  to  seek  power,  and  to 
lose  liberty  ;  or  to  seek  power  over  others,  and  to  lose 
power  over  a  man's  self.  The  rising  unto  place  is  la- 
borious; and  by  pains  men  come  to  greater  pains;  and 
it  is  sometimes  base  and  by  indignities  men  come  to 
dignities.  The  standing  is  slippery,  and  the  regress 
is  either  a  dovvnfal>  or  at  least  an  eclipse,  which  is  a 
melancholy  thing.  Cum  non  sis  qui  fueris,.  non  essc 
cur  veils  vivere?  Nay,  men  cannot  retire  when  they 
would ;  neither  will  they  when  it  were  reason  :  but 
are  impatient  of  privateness,  even  in  age  and  sickness, 
which  require  the  shadow:  like  old  townsmen,  that 
will  be  still  sitting  at  their  street  door,  though  there- 
by they  offer  age  to  scorn.  Certainly  great  persons 


276  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

had  need  to   borrow   other  mens  opinions  to  think 
themselves  happy  ;  for  if  they  judge  by  their  own 
feeling,  they  cannot  find   it ; 'but   if  they  think  with 
them.elves  what  other  men  think   of  them,  and  that 
other  men   would  fain  be  as  they  are,  then  they  are 
happy  as  it  were  by  report,  when  perhaps  they  find 
the  contrary  within.     For  they  are  the  first  that  find 
their  own   griefs :  though  they  be  the  last  that  find 
their  own  faults.     Certainly  men  in  great  fortunes  are 
strangers  to   themselves,  and  while  they  are  in   the 
puzzle  of  business,  they  have  no  time  to  tend  their 
health    either  of  body  or  mind.     ////  mors  gravis  in- 
cubat,  qui  not  us  minis  omnibus,  ignotus   moritur  sibi. 
In  place  there  is  licence  to  do  good  and  evil;  whereof 
the  latter  is  a  curse ;  for  in  evil  the  best  condition  is 
not  to  will :  the  second  not  to  can.    But  power  to  do 
good   is  the  true  and   lawful  end  of  aspiring.     For 
good  thoughts,    though  God   accept  them,    yet  to- 
wards men  are  little  better  than  good  dreams,  except 
they  be  put  in  act ;  and  that  cannot  be  without  power 
and  place ;  as  the  vantage  and  commanding  ground. 
Merit  and  good  works  is  the  end  of  man's  motion  ; 
and  conscience  of  the  same  is  the  accomplishment  of 
man's  rest.     For  if  a  man  can  be  partaker  of  God's 
theatre,  he  shall   likewise  be  partaker  of  God's  rest.' 
Et  conversus  Deus,  ut  aspiceret  opera,  qua  fecerunt 
manus  sute,  vidit  quod  omnia  essent  bona  nimis ;  and 
then  the  sabbath.     In  the  discharge  of  thy  place,  set 
before  theethe  best  examples;  for  imitation  is  a  globe 
of  precepts.     And  after  a  time  set  before  thee  thine 
own  example  ;  and  examine  thyself  strictly,  whether 
thou  didst    not  best  at   first.     Neglect  not  also  the 
examples  of  those,  that  have  carried  themselves  ill  in 
the  same  place:  not  to  set  off  thyself  by  taxing  their 
memory  ;.  but  to  direct  thyself  what  to  avoid.  Reform 
therefore,  without  bravery  or  scandal  of  former  times 
and  persons  ;  but  yet  set  it  down  to  thy  self,,  as,  we  11  to 
create  good  precedents,  as  to  follow  them.     Reduce 
things  to  the  first  institution,  and  observe  wherein  and 
how  they  have  degenerated;  but  yet    ask  counsel  of 
both  times:  of  the  ancient  time  what  is  best;  and  of 

,  Civil  and  Moral.  277 

the  latter  time  what  is  fittest.  Seek  to  make  thy 
course  regular;  that  men  may  know  beforehand  what 
they  may  expect :  but  be  not  too  positive  and  peremp- 
tory ;  and  express  thyself  well  when  thou  digressest 
from  thy  rule.  Preserve  the  right  of  thy  place,  but 
stir  not  questions  of  jurisdiction:  and  rather  assume 
thy  right  in  silence,  and  de  facto,  than  voice  it  with 
claims  and  challenges.  Preserve  likewise  the  rights 
of  inferior  places;  and  think  it  more  honour  to  direct 
in  chief,  than  to  be  busy  in  all.  Embrace  and  invite 
helps  and  advices  touching  the  execution  of  thy  place; 
and  do  not  drive  away  such  as  bring  thee  information* 
as  medicrs,  but  accept  of  them  in  good  part.  The 
vices  of  authority  are  chieiiy  fqur;  delays,  corruption, 
roughness,  and  facility.  For  delays;  give  easy  ac- 
cess; keep  times  appointed;  go  through  with  that 
which  is  in  hand ;  and  interlace  not  business  but  of  ne- 
cessity. For  corruption  ;  do  not  only  bind  thine  own 
hands,  or  thy  servants  hands,  from  taking,  but  bind  the 
hands  of  suitors  also  from  offering.  For  integrity 
used  doth  the  one;  but  integrity  professed,  and  with  a 
manifest  detestation  of  bribery,  doth  the  other:  and 
avoid  not  only  the  fault,  but  the  suspicion.  Whoso- 
ever is  found  variable,  and  changeth  manifestly  with- 
out manifest  cause,  giveth  suspicion  of  corruption. 
Therefore  always  when  thou  changest  thine  opinion 
or  course,  profess  it  plainly,  and  declare  it,  together 
with  the  reasons  that  move  thee  to  change:  and  do 
not  think  to  steal  it.  A  servant  or  a  favorite,  if  he  be 
inward,  and  no  other  apparent  cause  of  esteem,  is  com- 
monly thought  but  a  bye-way  to  close  corruption.  For 
roughness,  it  is  a  needless  cause  of  discontent ;  seve- 
rity breedeth  fear,  but  roughness  breedeth  hate. 
Even  reproofs  from  authority  ought  to  be  grave,  and 
not  taunting.  As  for  facility,  it  is  worse  than  bribery. 
For  bribes  come  but  now  and  then  i  but  if  importu- 
nity or  idle  respects  lead  a  man,  he  shall  never  be 
without.  As  Solomon  saith  ;  to  respect  persons  is  not 
good  ;for  such  a  man  zvill  transgress  for  a  piece  of  bread. 
It  is  most  true  what  was  anciently  spoken,  A  place 
sheweth  the  man:  and  it  shevveth  some  to  the  better, 

278  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

and  some  to  the  worse  ;  omnium  consensu,  capax  impe- 
ril, nisi  imperasset,  saith  Tacitus  of  Galba :  but  of 
Vespasian  he  saith ;  solus  imperantium  Vespasianus 
mutatus  in  mclitts.  Though  the  one  was  meant  of  suf- 
ficiency, the  other  of  manners  and  affection.  It  is  an 
assured  sign  of  a  worthy  and  generous  spirit,  whom 
honour  amends.  For  honour  is  or  should  be  the  place 
of  virtue:  and  as  in  nature  things  move  violently  to 
their  place,  and  calmly  in  their  place ;  so  virtue  in 
ambition  is  violent,  in  authority  settled  and  calm.  All 
rising  to  great  place  is  by  a  winding-stair;  and  if  there 
be  factions,  it  is  good  to  side  a  man's  self  whilst  he  is  in 
the  rising  ;  and  to  balance  himself  when  he  is  placed. 
Use  the  memory  of  thy  predecessor  fairly  and  tenderly  ; 
for  if  thou  dost  not,  it  is  a  debt  will  surely  be  paid 
when  thou  art  gone.  If  thou  have  colleagues,  respect 
them,  and  rather  call  them  when  they  look  not  for  it, 
than  exclude  them  when  they  have  reason  to  look  to 
be  called.  Be  not  too  sensible,  or  too  remembering  of 
thy  place  in  conversation,  and  private  answers  to 
suitors ;  but  let  it  rather  be  said,  When  he  sits  in  place? 
he  is  another  man. 


IT  is  a  trivial  grammar-school  text,  but  yet  worthy 
a  wise  man's  consideration.  Question  was  asked  of 
Demosthenes,  what  was  the  chief  part  of  an  orator? 
He  answered,  Action.  What  next  ? — Action.  What 
next  again  ? — Action.  He  said  it  that  knew  it  best ; 
and  had  by  naitire  himself  no  advantage  in  that  he 
commended.  A  strange  thing,  that  that  part  of  an 
orator,  which  is  but  superficial,  and  rather  the  virtue 
of  a  player,  should  be  placed  so  high  above  those 
other  noble  parts  of  invention,  elocution,  and  the 
rest :  nay  almost  alone,  as  if  it  were  all  in  all.  But  the 
reason  is  plain.  There  is  in  human  nature  generally, 
more  of  the  fool  than  of  the  wise;  and  therefore  those 
faculties  by  which  the  foolish  part  of  mens  minds  is 
taken,  are  most  potent.  Wonderful  like  is  the  case  of 
boldness  in  civil  business;  what  first? — Boldness. 
What  second  and  third  ? — Boldness.  And  yet  bold^ 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  279 

ness  is  a  child  of  ignorance  and  baseness,  far  infe 
rior  to  other  parts.  But  nevertheless  it  doth  fas- 
cinate, and  bind  hand  and  foot  those  that  are  either 
shallow  in  judgment  or  weak  in  courage,  which  are 
the  greatest  part ;  yea,  and  prevaileth  with  wise  men 
at  weak  times :  therefore  we  see  it  hath  done  won- 
ders in  popular  states,  but  with  senates  and  princes 
less ;  and  more  ever  upon  the  first  entrance  of  bold 
persons  into  action,  than  soon  after;  for  boldness  is 
an  ill  keeper  of  promise.  Surely,  as  there  are 
mountebanks  for  the  natural  body,  so  there  are 
mountebanks  for  the  politic  body  :  men  that  under- 
take great  cures,  and  perhaps  have  been  lucky  in  two 
or  three  experiments,  but  want  the  grounds  of  science, 
and  therefore  cannot  hold  out :  nay,  you  shall  see  a 
bold  fellow  many  times  do  Mahomet's  miracle.  Ma- 
homet made  the  people  believe  that  he  would  call  an 
hill  to  him,  and  from  the  top  of  it  offer  up  his  prayers 
for  the  observers  of  his  law.  The  people  assembled  : 
Mahomet  called  the  hill  to  come  to  him  again  and 
again  ;  and  when  the  hill  stood  still  he  was  never  a 
wit  abashed,  but  said,  "  If  the  hill  will  not  come  to 
Mahomet,  Mahomet  will  go  to  the  hill.'*  So  these 
men,  when  they  have  promised  great  matters,  and 
failed  most  shamefully,  yet,  if  they  have  the  perfection  ' 
of  boldness,  they  will  but  slight  it  over,  and  make  a 
turn,  and  no  more  ado.  Certainly  to  men  of  great 
judgment  bold  persons  are  a  sport  to  behold  ;  nay, 
and  to  the  vulgar  also  boldness  hath  somewhat  of  the 
ridiculous:  for  if  absurdity  be  the  subject  of  laughter, 
doubt  you  not  but  great  boldness  is  seldom  without 
some  absurdity  :  especially  it  is  a  sport  to  see  when  a 
bold  fellow  is  out  of  countenance,  for  that  puts  his 
face  into  a  most  shrunken  and  wooden  posture,  as 
needs  it  must;  for  in  bashfulness  the  spirits  do  a  lit- 
tle go  and  come  ;  but  with  bold  men,  upon  like  occa- 
sion, they  stand  at  a  stay;  like  a  stale  at  chess,  where 
it  is  no  mate,  but  yet  the  game  cannot  stir:  but  this 
last  were  fitter  for  a  satire,  than  for  a  serious  observa- 
tion. This  is  well  to  be  weighed,  that  boldness  is 
ever  blind  ;  for  it  seeth  not  dangers  and  inconve- 

280  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

niences :  therefore  it  is  ill  in  counsel,  good  in  ex- 
ecution :  so  that  the  right  use  of  bold  persons  is,  that 
they  never  command  in  chief,  but  be  seconds,  and 
under  the  direction  of  others.  For  in  counsel,  it  is 
good  to  see  dangers;  and  in  execution  not  to  see 
them,  except  they  be  very  great. 


I  TAKE  goodness    in  this  sense,  the  affecting  of 
the   weal  of  men,  which  is  what  the  Grecians  called 
philanthropia -,   and  the  word  humanity,  as  it  is  used, 
is  a  little  too  light  to  express  it.     Goodness  I  call  the 
habit,  and  goodness  of  nature  the  inclination.     This 
of  all  virtues  and  dignities  of  the  mind  is  the  greatest, 
being  the    character  of  the  Deity ;  and  without  it, 
man  is  a  busy,  mischievous,  wretched  thing,   no  bet- 
ter than  a  kind  of  vermin.     Goodness  answers  to  the 
theological  virtue  charity,  and  admits  no  e.xcess  but 
error.     The  desire  of  power  in  excess  caused  the  an- 
gels to  fall ;  the  desire  of  knowledge  in  excess  caused 
man  to  fall :  but  in  charity  there  is  no  excess ;  neither 
can  angel  or  man  come   in   danger  by  it.     The  incli- 
nation to  goodness  is  imprinted  deeply  in  the  nature  of 
man;  insomuch,  that  if  it  issue  not  towards  men,  it 
will  take  unto  other  living  creatures  ;  as  it  is  seen  in 
the  Turks,  a  cruel  people,  w7ho  nevertheless  are  kind 
to  beasts,  and  give  alms  to  dogs  and  birds:  insomuch, 
as  Busbechius  reporteth,  a  Christian  boy  in  Constanti- 
nople had  like  to  have  been  stoned,  for  gagging,  in  a 
waggishness,    a   long-billed  fowl.     Errors  indeed  in 
this  virtue   of  goodness  or  charity  maybe  committed. 
The  Italians  have  an  ungracious  proverb  ;  .Tan to  buon 
(he  rat  nicntc ;  So  good  that  he  is  good  for  nothing. 
And  one  of  the  doctors  of  Italy,  Nicholas  Machiavel, 
had  the  confidence  to  put  in  writing,  almost  in  plain 
terms,  that  the  Christian  faith  had  given  up  good  men 
in  prey  to  those  that  are  tyrannical  and  unjust :  which 
he  spake,   because  indeed  there  was  never  law,  or 
>ect,  or  opinion,   did  so  much    magnify  goodness,  as 
the  Christian  religion  doth  :    theretore   to   avoid    the 
scaudaJ,  and  the  clanger  both,  it  is  good  to  take  know- 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  281 

ledge  of  the  errors  of  an  habit  so  excellent.  Seek  the 
good  of  other  men,  but  be  not  in  bondage  to  their 
Faces  or  fancies ;  for  that  is  but  facility  or  softness, 
which  taketh  an  honest  mind  prisoner.  Neither  give 
thou  ^Esop's  cock  a  gem,  who  would  be  better 
pleased,  and  happier  if  he  had  a  barley-corn.  The  ex- 
ample of  God  teacheth  the  lesson  truly  ;  he  sendeth  his 
rain,  andmaketh  his  sun  to  shine  upon  the  just  and  the 
unjust ;  but  he  doth  not  rain  wealth,  nor  shine  honour 
and  virtues  upon  men  equally :  common  benefits  are 
to  be  communicated  with  all,  but  peculiar  benefits 
with  choice.  And  beware,  how  in  making  the  por- 
traiture thou  breakest  the  pattern  ;  for  divinity  mak- 
eth  the  love  of  ourselves  the  pattern,  the  love  of  our 
neighbours  but  the  portraiture:  Sell  all  thou  hast  and 
give  it  to  the  poor,  and  follow  me.  But  sell  not  all  thou 
hast,  except  thou  come  and  follow  me  ;  that  is,  ex- 
cept thou  have  a  vocation,  wherein  thou  mayest  do  as 
much  good  with  little  means  as  with  great :  for  other- 
wise, in  feeding  the  streams  thou  driest  the  fountain. 
Neither  is  there  only  a  habit  of  goodness  directed  by 
right  reason ;  but  there  is  in  some  men,  even  in  na- 
ture, a  disposition  towards  it;  as  on  the  other  side 
there  is  a  natural  malignity.  For  there  be,  that  in 
their  nature  do  not  affect  the  good  of  others.  The 
lighter  sort  of  malignity  turneth  but  to  a  crossness,  or 
frowardness,  or  aptness  to  oppose,  or  difficilness,  or 
the  like;  but  the  deeper  sort  to  envy,  and  mere  mis- 
chief. Such  men,  in  other  mens  calamities,  are  as  it 
were  in  season,  and  are  ever  on  the  loading  part;  not 
so  good  as  the  dogs  that  licked  Lazarus'  sores,  but 
like  flies  that  are  still  buzzing  upon  any  thing  that  is 
raw  ;  Misanthropy  that  make  it  their  practice  to  bring 
men  to  the  bough,  and  yet  have  never  a  tree  for  the 
purpose  in  their  gardens,  as  Timon  had.  Such  dispo- 
sitions are  the  very  errors  of  human  nature,  and  yet 
they  are  the  fittest  timber  to  make  *great  politics  of; 
like  to  knee-timber,  that  is  good  for  ships  that  are 
ordained  to  be  tossed,  but  not  for  building  houses  that 
shall  stand  firm.  The  parts  and  signs  of  goodness  are 
many.  If  a  man  be  gracious  and  courteous  to  stran- 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral 

gers,  it  shews  he  is  a  citizen  of  the  world,  and  that  his 
heart  is  no  island  cut  off  from  other  lands,  but  a  con- 
tinent that  joins  to  them.  If  he  be  compassionate  to- 
wards the  afflictions  of  others,  it  shews  that  his  heart 
is  like  the  noble  tree  that  is  wounded  itself  when  it 
gives  the  balm.  If  he  easily  pardons  and  remits  of- 
fences, it  shews  that  his  mind  is  planted  above  inju- 
ries, so  that  he  cannot  be  shot.  If  he  be  thankful 
for  small  benefits,  it  shews  that  he  weighs  mens  minds, 
and  not  their  trash.  But  above  all,  if  he  have  St. 
Paul's  perfection,  that  he  would  wish  to  be  an  anathe- 
ma  from  Christ  for  the  salvation  of  his  brethren,  it 
shews  much  of  a  divine  nature,  and  a  kind  of  confor^ 
mity  with  Christ  himself. 


WE  will  speak  of  nobility  first  as  a  portion  of  an 
estate,  then  as  a  condition  of  particular  persons.  A  mo* 
narchy,  where  there  is  no  nobility  at  all,  is  ever  a  pure 
and  absolute  tyranny;  as  that  of  the  Turks:  for  nobi- 
lity attempers  sovereignty,  and  draws  the  eyes  of  the 
people  somewhat  aside  from  the  line  royal,  But  for 
democracies  they  need  not ;  and  they  are  commonly 
more  quiet,  and  less  subject  to  sedition,  than  where 
there  are  stirps  of  nobles;  for  mens  eyes  are  upon  the 
business,  and  not  upon  the  persons:  or  if  upon  the 
persons,  it  is  for  the  business  sake,  as  fittest,  and  not 
for  flags  and  pedigree.  We  see  the  Switzers  last  well, 
notwithstanding  their  diversity  of  religion,  and  of  can- 
tons :  for  utility  is  their  bond,  and  not  respects.  The 
United  Provinces  of  the  Low  Countries,  in  their  go- 
vernment excel :  for  where  there  is  an  equality,  the 
consultations  are  more  indifferent,  and  the  payments 
and  tributes  more  cheerful.  A  great  and  potent  no- 
bility addeth  majesty  to  a  monarch,  but  diminisheth 
power;  and  putteth  life  and  spirit  into  the  people, 
but  presseth  their  fortune.  It  is  well  when  nobles  are 
not  too  great  for  sovereignty,  nor  for  justice;  and  yet 
maintain  in  that  height,  as  the  insolency  of  inferiors 
may  be  broken  upon  them,  before  it  come  on  too  fast 
upon  the  majesty  of  kings.  A  numerous  nobility 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  283 

causeth  poverty  and  inconvenience  in  a  state,  for  it  Is 
a  surcharge  of  expence;  and  besides,  it  being  of  ne- 
cessity that  many  of  the  nobility  fall  in  time  to  be 
weak  in  fortune,  it  maketh  a  kind  of  disproportion 
between  honour  and  means. 

As  for  nobility  in  particular  persons:  it  is  a  reve- 
rend thing  to  see  an  ancient  castle. or  building  not  in 
decay;  or  to  see  a  fair  timber-tree  sound  and  perfect; 
how  much  more  to  behold  an  ancient  noble  family, 
which  hath  stood  against  the  waves  and  weathers  of 
time  ?  for  new  nobility  is  but  the  act  of  power,  but 
ancient  nobility  is  the  act  of  time.  Those  that  are  first 
raised  to  nobility,  are  commonly  more  virtuous,  but 
Jess  innocent,  than  their  descendants;  for  there  is 
rarely  any  rising,  but  by  a  commixture  of  good  and 
evil  arts  :  but  it  is  reason  the  memory  of  their  virtues 
remain  to  their  posterity,  and  their  faults  die  with 
themselves.  Nobility  of  birth  commonly  abateth  in- 
dustry; and  he  that  is  not  industrious  envieth  him 
that  is.  Besides,  noble  persons  cannot  go  much  higher ; 
and  he  that  standeth  at  a  stay  when  others  rise,  can 
hardly  avoid  motions  of  envy.  On  the  other  side, 
nobility  extinguished  the  passive  envy  from  others 
towards  them,  because  they  are  in  possession  of  ho- 
nour. Certainly  kings  that  have  able  men  of  their  no- 
bility, shall  find  ease  in  employing  them,  and  a  better 
slide  into  their  business :  for  people  naturally  bend  to 
them,  as  born  in  some  sort  to  command. 


SHEPHERDS  of  people  had  need  know  the  ka- 
lendars  of  tempests  in  state:  which  are  commonly 
greatest  when  things  grow  to  equality  ;  as  natural 
tempests  are  greatest  about  the  aquinoctia.  And  as 
there  are  certain  hollow  blasts  of  wind,  and  secret 
swellings  of  seas,  before  a  tempest,  so  are  there  in 
states : 

Ilk  etiam  c<ecos  ins  fare  tumult  us 
&&p&  monettfraudesque  et  operta  tumcscere  bella. 

Libels  and  licentious  discourses  against  the  state, 
when  they  are  frequent  and  open,  and  in  like  sort 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

false  news  often  running  up  and  down  to  the  disadvan- 
tage of  the  state,  and  hastily  embraced,  are  amongst 
the  signs  of  troubles.     Virgil  giving  the  pedigree  of 
Fame,  saith,  she  was  sister  to  the  giants. 
I  limn  Terra  parent ,  Ira  irritata  Dtorumy 
Ejctrcmam,  ut  perhibent,  CEO  Encdadoque  sororem 

As  if  fames  were  the  relicks  of  seditions  past:  but 
they  are  no  less  indeed  the  preludes  of  seditions  to 
come.  Howsoever  he  noteth  it  right,  that  seditious 
tumults  and  seditious  fames,  differ  no  more,  but  as 
brother  and  sister,  masculine  and  feminine;  especi- 
ally if  it  come  ro  that,  that  the  best  actions  of  a  state, 
and  the  most  plausible,  and  which  ought  to  give 
greatest  contentment,  are  taken  in  ill  sense  and  tra- 
duced :  for  that  shews  the  envy  great,  as  Tacitus 
saith*;  couflata  magna  invidia,  sen  bene,  seu  male,  gesta 
premunt.  Neither  doth  it  follow,  that  because  these 
fames  are  a  sign  of  troubles,  that  the  suppressing  of 
them  with  too  much  seventy  should  be  a  remedy  of 
troubles.  For  the  despising  of  them  many  times 
checks  them  best:  and  the  going  about  to  stop  them, 
doth  but  make  a  wonder  long-lived.  Also  that  kind 
of  obedience  which  Tacitus  bpeaketh  of,  is  to  be  held 
suspected;  Erant  inofficio,  scd  tamen  qui  mallent  man- 
data  imperantiiim  interpretari,  quamexequi,  disputing, 
excusing,  cavilling  upon  mandates  and  directions,  is 
a  kind  of  shaking  off  the  yoke,  and  assay  of  disobedi- 
ence :  especially  if  in  those  disputings  they  which  are 
for  the  direction,  speak  fearfully  and  tenderly  ;  and 
those  that  are  against  it,  audaciously. 

Also,  as  Machiavel  noteth  well,  when  princes, 
that  ought  to  be  common  parents,  make  themselves 
as  a  party,  and  lean  to  a  side,  it  is  as  a  boat  that  is 
overthrown  by  uneven  weight  on  the  one  side  :  as  was 
well  seen  in  the  time  of  Henry  the  third  of  France ; 
for  first,  himself  entered  league  for  the  extirpation  of 
the  protestants;  and  presently  after  the  same  league 
was  turned  upon  himself.  For  when  the  authority  of 
princes  is  made  but  an  accessary  to  a  cause,  and  that 
there  be  other  bands,  that  tie  faster  than  the  band  of 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  285- 

sovereignty,  kings  begin  to  be  put  almost  out  of  pos- 

Also,  when  discords,  and  quarrels,  and  factions, 
are  carried  openly  and  audaciously,  it  is  a  sign  the 
reverence  of  government  is  lost.  For  the  motions  of 
the  greatest  persons  in  a  government  ought  to  be  as 
the  motions  of  the  planets  under  primum  mobile,  ac- 
cording to  the  old  opinion  ;  which  is,  that  every  one 
of  them  is  carried  swiftly  by  the  highest  motion,  and 
softly  in  their  own  motion.  And  therefore  when 
great  ones  in  their  own  particular  motion  move  vio- 
lently, and,  as  Tacitus  expresseth  it  well,  tiberius, 
quam  ut  imperantium  meminissent;  it  is  a  sign  the  orbs 
are  out  of  frame.  For  reverence  is  that  wherewith 
princes  are  girt  from  God,  who  threatened!  the  dis* 
solving  thereof;  solvam  cingula  regum. 

So  when  any  of  the  four  pillars  of  government  are 
mainly  shaken  or  weakened,  which  are  religion,  jus- 
tice, counsel,  and  treasure,  men  had  need  to  pray  for 
fair  weather.  But  let  us  pass  from  this  part  of  predic- 
tions, concerning  which,  nevertheless,  more  light 
may  be  taken  from  that  which  followeth,  and  let  us 
speak  first  of  the  materials  of  seditions;  then  of  the 
motives  of  them;  and  thirdly  of  the  remedies. 

Concerning  the  materials  of  seditions.  It  is  a  thing 
well  to  be  considered  ;  for  the  surest  way  to  prevent 
seditions,  if  the  times  do  bear  it,  is  to  take  away  the 
matter  of  them.  For  if  there  be  fuel  prepared,  it  is 
hard  to  tell  whence  the  spark  shall  come  that  shall  set 
it  on  fire.  The  matter  of  seditions  is  of  two  kinds : 
much  poverty,  and  much  discontentment.  It  is  cer- 
tain, so  many  overthrown  estates,  so  many  votes  for 
troubles.  Lucan  noteth  well  the  state  of  Rome  bo 
fore  the  civil  war  : 

Hinc  usura  vorax,  rapldumque  in  tempore  fxnus, 

Hinc  concussafdcs,  ct  multis  utilc  bdlum. 
This  same  multis  utilc  bdlum  is  an  assured  and  infalli- 
ble sign  of  a  state  disposed  to  seditions  and  troubles. 
And  if  this  poverty  and  broken  estate  iri  the  better 
sort  be  joined  with  a  want  and  necessity  In  the  mean 
people,  the  danger  is  imminent  and  great.  For  the 

286  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

rebellions  of  the  belly  are  the  worst.  As  for  discon- 
tentments, they  are  in  the  politic  body  like  to  hu- 
mours in  the  natural,  which  are  apt  to  gather  a  pre- 
ternatural heat,  and  to  inflame.  And  let  no  prince 
measure  the  danger  of  them  by  this ;  whether  they 
be  just,  or  unjust;  for  that  were  to  imagine  people  to 
b^  too  reasonable  ;  who  do  often  spurn  at  their  own 
good  :  nor  yet  by  this  ;  whether  the  griefs  whereupon 
they  rise  be  in  fact  great  or  small.  For  they  are  the 
most  dangerous  discontentments,  where  the  fear  is 
greater  than  the  feeling.  Dolendi  ?nodus,  timendinon 
item.  Besides,  in  great  oppressions,  the  same  things 
that  provoke  the  patience,  do  withal  mate  the  cou- 
rage ;  but  in  fears  it  is  not  so.  Neither  let  any  prince 
or  state  be  secure  concerning  discontentments,  because 
they  have  been  often,  or  have  been  long,  and  yet  no 
peril  hath  ensued ;  for  as  it  is  true  that  every  vapour 
or  fume,  doth  not  turn  into  a  storm ;  so  it  is  never- 
theless true,  that  storms,  though  they  blow  over  divers 
times,  yet  may  fall  at  last;  and  as  the  Spanish  pro- 
verb noteth  well,  the  cord  breaketh  at  the  last  by  the 
weakest  pull. 

The  causes  and  motives  of  seditions  are,  innovation 
in  religion,  taxes,  alteration  of  laws  and  customs, 
breaking  of  privileges,  general  oppression,  advance- 
ment of  unworthy  persons',  strangers,  dearths,  dis- 
banded soldiers,  factions  grown  desperate  ;  and  what- 
soever in  offending  people  joineth  and  knitteth  them 
in  a  common  cause. 

For  the  remedies,  there  may  be  some  general  pre- 
servatives, whereof  we  will  speak  ;  as  for  the  just 
cure,  it  must  answer  to  the  particular  disease ;  and  so 
be  left  to  counsel,  rather  than  rule. 

The  first  remedy  or  prevention,  is.  to  remove  by  all 
means  possible  that  material  cause  of  sedition,  where- 
of we  spake ;  which  is  want  and  poverty  in  the  estate. 
To  which  purpose  serveth  the  opening  and  well  ba- 
lancing of  trade;  the  cherishing  of  manufactures;  the 
banishing  of  idleness ;  the  repressing  of  waste  and  ex- 
cess by  sumptuary  laws  :  the  improvement  and  hus- 
banding oftheso'il;  the  regulating  of  prices  of  things 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

vendable;  the  moderating  of  taxes  and  tributes,  and 
the  like.  Generally  it  is  to  be  foreseen,  that  the  po- 
pulation of  a  kingdom,  especially  if  it  be  not  mown 
down  by  wars,  do  not  exceed  the  stock  of  the  king- 
dom, which  should  maintain  them.  Neither  is  the 
population  to  be  reckoned  only  by  number :  for  a 
smaller  number,  that  spend  more,  and  earn  less,  do 
wear  out  an  estate  sooner  than  a  greater  number  that 
live  lower  and  gather  more.  Therefore  the  multiplying 
of  nobility,  and  other  degrees  of  quality,  in  an  over- 
proportion  to  the  common  people,  doth  speedily  bring 
a  state  to  necessity :  and  so  doth  likewise  an  over- 
grown clergy ;  for  they  bring  nothing  to  the  stock : 
and  in  like  manner,  when  more  are  bred  scholars, 
than  preferments  can  take  off. 

It  is  likewise  to  be  remembered,  that  forasmuch  as 
the  increase  of  any  estate  must  be  Upon  the  foreigner, 
for  whatsoever  is  somewhere  gotten  is  somewhere 
lost,  there  be  but  three  things  which  one  nation 
selleth  unto  another  ;  the  commodity  as  nature  yield- 
eth  it ;  the  manufacture  ;  and  the  vecture  or  carnage. 
So  that  if  these  three  wheels  go,  wealth  will  flow  as 
in  a  spring  tide.  And  it  cometh  many  times  to  pass, 
that  mater iam  super abit  opus,  that  the  work  and  car- 
riage is  more  worth  than  the  material,  and  enricheth 
a  state  more  ;  as  is  notably  seen  in  the  Low-Country- 
men, who  have  the  best  mines  above  ground  in  the 

Above  all  things  good  policy  is  to  be  used,  that  the 
treasure  and  moneys  in  a  state  be  not  gathered  into 
few  hands.  For  otherwise  a  state  may  have  a  great 
stock,  and  yet  starve.  And  money  is  like  muck,  not 
good  except  it  be  spread.  This  is  done  chiefly  by  sup- 
pressing, or  at  the  least  keeping  a  strait  hand  upon 
the  devouring  trades  of  usury,  ingrossing,  great  pas- 
turages, and  the  like. 

For  removing  discontentments,  or  at  least  the  dan* 
gerofthem:  there  is  in  every  state,  as  we  know,  two 
portions  of  subjects,  the  noblesse,  and  the  commonalty. 
When  one  of  these  is  discontent,  the  danger  is  not 
great ;  for  common  people  are  of  slow  motion,  if  they 

238  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

be  not  excited  by  the  greater  sort ;  and  the  greater 
sort  are  of  small  strength,  except  the  multitude  be  apt 
and  ready  to  move  of  themselves.  Then  is  the  danger, 
when  the  greater  sort  do  but  wait  for  the  troublingof 
the  waters  amongst  the  meaner,  that  then  they  may 
declare  themselves.  The  poets  feign,  that  the  rest  of 
the  Gods  would  have  bound  Jupiter;  which  he  hear- 
ing of,  by  the  counsel  of  Pallas,  sent  for  Briareus  with 
his  hundred  hands  to  come  in  to  his  aid.  An  emblem, 
no  doubt,  to  shew,  how  safe  it  is  for  monarchs  to  make 
sure  of  the  good  will  of  common  people. 

To  give  moderate  liberty  for  griefs  and  discontent- 
ments to  evaporate,  so  it  be  without  too  great  inso- 
Jency.or  bravery,  is  a  safe  way.  For  he  that  turneth  the 
humours  back,  and  maketh  the  wound  bleed  inwards, 
endangereth  malign  ulcers,  and  pernicious  imposthu- 

The  part  of  Epimetheus  might  well  become  Pro- 
metheus, in  the  case  of  discontentments,  for  there  is 
not  a  better  provision  against  them.  Epimetheus, 
when  griefs  and  evils  flew  abroad,  at  last  shut  the  lid 
and  kept  Hope  in  the  bottom  of  the  vessel.  Certainly 
the  politic  and  artificial  nourishing  and  entertaining 
of  hopes,  and  carrying  men  from  hopes  to  hopes,  is 
one  of  the  best  antidotes  against  the  poison  of  discon- 
tentments. And  it  is  a  certain  sign  of  a  wise  govern- 
ment and  proceeding,  when  it  can  hold  men's  hearts 
by  hopes,  when  it  cannot  by  satisfaction :  and  when 
it  can  handle  things  in  such  manner,  as  no  evil  shall 
appear  so  peremptory,  Hut  that  it  hath  some  outlet  of 
hope ;  which  is  the  less  hard  to  do,  because  both  par- 
ticular persons  and  factions  are  apt  enough  to  flatter 
themselves,  or  at  least  to  brave  that  which  they  be- 
lieve not. 

Also,  the  foresight  and  prevention  that  there  be  no 
likely  or  fit  head,  whereunto  discontented  persons  may 
resort,  and  under  whom  they  may  join,  is  a  known 
but  an  excellent  point  of  caution.  I  understand  a  fit 
head  to  be  one  that  hath  greatness  and  reputation; 
that  hath  confidence  with  the  discontented  party,  and 
upon  whom  they  turn  their  eyes ;  and  that  is  thought 

EsSay Sy  Civil  and  Moral.  289 

discontented  in  bis  own  particular  :  which  kind  of 
persons  are  either  to  be  won  and  reconciled  to  the 
state,  and  that  in  a  fast  and  true  manner  :  or  to  be 
coii fronted  with  some  other  of  the  same  party  that 
may  oppose  them,  and  so  divide  the  reputation.  Ge- 
nerally, the  dividing  and  breaking  of  all  factions  and 
combinations  that  are  adverse  -to  the  state,  and  setting 
them  at  distance,  or  at  least  distrust  amongst  them- 
selves, is  not  one  of  the  worst  remedies.  For  it  is  a 
desperate  case,  if  those  that  hold  with  the  proceed- 
ing of  the  state,  be  full  of  discord  and  faction;  and 
those  that  are  against  it  be  entire  and  united. 

I  have  noted,  that  some  witty  and  sharp  speeches 
which  have  fallen  from  princes,  have  given  fire  to  se- 
ditions. Cicsar  did  himself  infinite  hurt  in  thatspeech; 
Sylla  nescivit  liter  as,  non  potuit  die  tare :  for  it  did  ut- 
terly cut  off  that  hope  which  men  had  entertained, 
that  he  would  at  one  time  or  other  give  over  his  dic- 
tatorship. Galba  undid  himself  by  that  speech;  -Legi 
a  se  milifcm,  non  cmi :  for  it  put  the  soldiers  out  of 
hope  of  the  donative.  Probus  likewise  by  that  speech^ 
Si  vixcroy  non  opus  erit  amplius  Romano  imperio  mili* 
tibus  ;  a  speech  of  great  despair  for  the  soldiers  :  and 
many  the  like.  Surely  princes  had  need,  in  tender 
matters  and  ticklish  times,  to  beware  what  they  say; 
especially  in  these  short  speeches,  which  fly  abroad 
like  darts,  and  are  thought  to  be  shot  out  of  their 
secret  intentions.  For*  as  for  large  discourses,  they 
are  flat  things,  and  not  so  much  noted. 

Lastly,  let  princes,  against  all  events,  not  be  with- 
out some  great  person,  one,  or  rather  more,  of  mili- 
tary valour  near  unto  them,  for  the  repressing  of  se- 
ditions in  their  beginnings.  For" without  that,  there 
useth  to  be  more  trepidation  in  court  upon  the  first 
breaking  out  of  troubles,  than  were  fit.  And  the 
state  runneth  the  danger  of  that  which  Tacitus  saith, 
atque  is  habitus  animorum  fitit,  ut  pessimiun  f acinus 
auderent  paitci,  plures  vellent,  omnes  patcrentur.  But 
let  such  military  persons  be  assured  and  well  reputed 
of,  rather  than  factious  and  popular;  holding  also 
good  correspondence  with  the  other  great  men  in 

VOL.  n.  u 

29O  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

the  state;    or  else    the  remedy  is   worse   than  the 


I  HAD  rather  believe  all  the  fables  in  the  Legend, 
and  the  Talmud,  and  the  Alcoran,  than  that  this 
universal  frame  is  without  a  mind.  And  therefore 
God  never  wrought  miracle  to  convince  atheism,  be- 
cause his  ordinary  works  convince  it.  It  is  true,  that 
a  little  philosophy  inclineth  man's  mind  to  atheism  ; 
but  depth  in  philosophy  bringeth  mens'  minds  about 
to  religion :  for  while  the  mind  of  man  looketh  upon 
second  causes  scattered,  it  may  sometimes  rest  in 
them,  and  go  no  farther ;  but  when  it  beholdeth  the 
chain  of  them  confederate  and  linked  together,  it  must 
needs  fly  to  Providence  and  Deity.  Nay  even  that  school 
which  is  most  accused  of  atheism,  doth  most  demon- 
strate religion;  that  is  the  school  of  Leucippus,  and 
Democritus,  and  Epicurus.  For  it  is  a  thousand 
times  more  credible,  that  four  mutual  elements,  and 
one  immutable  fifth  essence  duly  and  eternally  placed, 
need  no  God  ;  than  that  an  army  of  infinite  small  por- 
tions, or  seeds  unplaced,  should  have  produced  this 
order  and  beauty  without  a  divine  marshal.  The 
Scripture  saith,  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart,  There 
is  no  God:  it  is  not  said,  the  fool  hath  thought  in  his 
heart.  So  as  he  rather  saith  it  by  rote  to  himself,  as 
that  he  would  have,  than  that  he  can  thoroughly  be- 
lieve it,  or  be  persuaded  of  it.  For  none  deny 
there  is  a  God,  but  those  for  whom  it  maketh  that 
there  were  no  God.  It  appeareth  in  nothing  more, 
that  atheism  is  rather  in  the  lip  than  in  the  heart  of 
man,  than  by  this ;  that  atheists  will  ever  be  talking 
of  that  their  opinion,  as  if  they  fainted  in  it  within 
themselves,  and  would  be  glad  to  be  strengthened  by 
the  consent  of  others:  nay  more,  you  shall  have  athe- 
ists strive  to  get  disciples,  as  it  fareth  with  other  sects: 
and,  which  is  most  of  all,  you  shall  have  of  them  that 
will  suffer  for  atheism,  and  not  recant ;  whereas  if  they 
did  truly  think  that  there  were  no  such  thing  as  God, 
why  should  they  trouble  themselves  ?  Epicurus  is 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  29 1 

charged,  that  he  did  but   dissemble,  for  his  credit's 
sake,   when  he   affirmed  there  were  blessed  natures, 
but  such  as  enjoyed  themselves  without  having  re- 
spect to  the  government  of  the  world.    Wherein  they 
say  he  did   temporize,  though  in   secret  he   thought 
there  was  no  God.     But  certainly  he  is  traduced ;  for 
his  words  are  noble  and  divine  :  Non  deos  vulgi  ne- 
gare  prof  (mum  ;  sed  vulgi  opiniones  diis  applicare  pro- 
famim.     Plato  could  have  said   no   more.     And  al- 
though he  had  the  confidence  to  deny  the  adminis- 
tration, he  had  not  the  power  to  deny  the  nature.  The 
Indians  of  the  west  have  names  for  their  particular 
gods,  though   they  have  no  name  for  God :  as  if  the 
heathens  should  have  had  the  names  Jupiter,  Apollo, 
Mars,  etc.  but  not  the  word  Deus  :  which  shews,  that 
even  those  barbarous  people  have  the  notion,  though 
they  have  not  the  latitude  and  extent  of  it.     So  that 
against  atheists  the  very  savages  take  part  with  the  very 
subtilest  philosophers.    The  comtemplative  atheist  is 
rare;  a  Diagoras,  a  Bion,  a  Luciarf  perhaps,  and  some 
others  :  and  yet  they  seem  to  be  more  than  they  are  ; 
for  that  all  that  impugn  a  received  religion  or  super- 
stition, are  by  the  adverse  part  branded  with  the  name 
of  atheists.     But  the  great  atheists  indeed  are  hypo- 
crites;   which    are    ever  handling   holy  things,    but 
without  feeling  ;  so  as  they  must  needs  be  cauterized 
in  the  end.     The  causes  of  atheism  are  ;  divisions  in 
religion,  if  they  be  many  ;  for  any  one  main  division 
addeth  zeal  to  both  sides ;  but  many  divisions  intro- 
duce atheism.     Another  is,  scandal  of  priests  ;  when 
it  is  come  to  that  which  S.  Bernard  saith,  non  est  jam 
dicere,  ut  populus,   sic  sacerdos :  quia  nee  sic  populus, 
ut  sacerdos.     A  third  is,  custom  of  profane  scoffing  in 
holy  matters;  which  doth  by  little  and  little  deface 
the  reverence  of  religion.     And  lastly,  learned  times, 
especially  with  peace  and  prosperity:  for  troubles  and 
adversities  do  more  bow  mens  minds  to  religion.  They 
that  deny  a  God,  destroy  man's  nobility  :  for  certainly 
man  is  of  kin  to  the  beasts  by  his  body  ;  and  if  he  be 
not  of  kin  to  God  by  his  spirit,  he  is  a  base  and  ig- 
noble  creature.     It  destroys  likewise  magnanimity, 

u  2 


292  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

and  the  raising  of  human  natnre  :  for  take  an  example 
of  a  dog,  and  mark  what  a  generosity  and  courage 
he  will  put  on,  when  he  finds  himself  maintained 
by  a  man  ;  who  to  him  is  instead  of  a  God,  or  melior 
natura :  which  courage  is  manifestly  such,  as  that 
creature,  without  that  confidence  of  a  better  nature 
than  his  own,  could  never  attain.  So  man,  when  he 
resteth  and  assureth  himself  upon  divine  protection 
and  favour,  gathereth  a  force  and  faith,  which  human 
nature  in  itself  could  not  obtain:  therefore  as  athe- 
ism is  in  all  respects  hateful^  so  in  this,  that  it  depriv- 
eth  human  nature  of  the  means  to  exalt  itself  above 
human  frailty.  As  it  is  in  particular  persons,  so  it  is 
in  nations  :  never  was  there  such  a  state  for  magnani- 
mity as  Rome  ;  of  this  state  hear  what  Cicero  saith  : 
Quam  volumus,  licet,  patrcs  conscripti,  nos  amemus,  ta- 
mtn  nee  ninnero  Hispanos,  nee  robore  Gallos,  nee  calli- 
ditate  Pccnos,  nee  artibus  Gr<ecos9  nee  denique  hoc  ipso 
hiijus  gentis  et  terra  domeslico  nativoque  sensu  I  tales 
ipsos  et  Latinos  ;  sed  pietate,  ac  religione,  atque  hac  una 
sapientia,  quod  deorum  iinmortallum  numhie  omnia  regi 
gubernarique  perspeximus,  omnes  gentes  nationesque  su- 


IT  were  better  to  have  no  opinion  of  God  at  all, 
than  such  an  opinion  as  is  unworthy  of  him  :  for  the 
one  is  unbelief,  the  other  is  contumely  :  and  cer- 
tainly superstition  is  the  reproach  of  the  Deity,  Plu- 
tarch saith  well  to  that  purpose  :  "  Surely,"  saith  he, 
"  I  had  rather  a  great  deal  men  should  say,  there  was 
"  no  such  man  at  all  as  Plutarch,  than  that  they 
"  should  say,  that  there  was  one  Plutarch,  that  would 
"  eat  his  children  as  soon  as  they  were  born  ;  as  the 
"  poets  speak  of  Saturn."  And  as  the  contumely  is 
greater  towards  God,  so  the  danger  is  greater  towards 
men.  Atheism  leaves  a  man  to  sense,  to  philosophy, 
to  natural  piety,  to  laws,  to  reputation  ;  all  which 
may  be  guides  to  an  outward  moral  virtue,  though  re- 
ligion were  not:  but  superstition  dismounts  all  these, 
and  erecteth  an  absolute  monarchy  in  the  minds  of. 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  293 

men.  Therefore  atheism  did  never  perturb  states ;  for  it 
makes  men  wary  of  themselves,  as  looking  no  farther: 
and  we  see  the  times  inclined  to  atheism,  as  the  time 
of  Augustus  Caesar,  were  civil  times.  But  supersti- 
tion hath  been  the  confusion  of  many  states ;  and 
bringeth  in  a  new  primum  mobile^  that  ravisheth  all 
the  spheres  of  government.  The  master  of  superstition 
is  the  people  ;  an<l  in  all  superstition  wise  men  follow 
fools;  and  arguments  are  fitted  to  practice,  in  a  re- 
versed order.  It  was  gravely  said  by  some  of  the  pre- 
lates in  the  Council  of  Trent,  where  the  doctrine  of  the 
school-men  bare  great  sway ;  that  the  schoolmen  were 
like  astronomers,  which  did  feign  eccentrics  and  epicy- 
cles, and  such  engines  of  orbs,  to  save  the  phenomena, 
though  they  knew  there  were  no  such  things;  and  in 
like  manner,  that  the  schoolmen  had  framed  a  number 
of  subtile  and  intricate  axioms  and  theorems,  to  save 
the  practice  of  the  church.  The  causes  of  superstition 
are :  pleasing  and  sensual  rites  and  ceremonies  :  excess 
of  outward  and  pharisaical  holiness:  over-great  reve- 
rence of  traditions,  which  cannot  but  load  the  church: 
the  stratagems  of  prelates  for  their  own  ambition  and 
lucre:  the  favouring  too  much  of  good  intentions, 
which  openeth  the  gate  to  conceits  and  novelties:  the 
taking  an  aim  at  divine  matters  by  human,  which  can-  , 
not  but  breed  mixture  of  imaginations:  and  lastly, 
barbarous  times,  especially  joined  with  calamities  and 
disasters.  Superstition  without  a  veil  is  a  deformed 
thing  :  for  as  it  addeth  deformity  to  an  ape  to  be  so 
like  a  man  ;  so  the  similitude  of  superstition  to  reli- 
gion makes  it  the  more  deformed.  And  as  whole- 
some meat  corrupteth  to  little  worms;  so  good  forms 
and  orders  corrupt  into  a  number  of  petty  observances. 
There  is  a  superstition  in  avoiding  superstition  ;  when 
men  think  to  do  best,  if  they  go  farthest  from  the  su- 
perstition formerly  received  :  therefore  care  should  be 
had,  that,  as  it  fareth  in  ill  purgings,  the  good  be  not 
taken  away  with  the  bad,  which  commonly  is  done 
when  the  people  is  the  reformer. 

294*  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 


TRAVEL  in  the  younger  sort  is  a  part  of  educa- 
tion ;  in  the  elder  a  part  or  experience.  He  that  tra- 
velleth  into  a  country  before  he  hath  some  entrance 
into  the  language,  goeth  to  school,  and  not  to  travel. 
That  young  men  travel  under  some  tutor  or  grave  ser- 
vant, I  allow  well ;  so  that  he  be  such  a  one  that  hath 
the  language,  and  hath  been  in  the  country  before ; 
whereby  he  may  be  able  to  tell  them  what  things 
are  worthy  to  be  seen  in  the  country  where  they  go, 
what  acquaintances  they  are  to  seek,  what  exercises 
or  discipline  the  place  yieldeth.  For  else  young  men 
shall  go  hooded,  and  look  abroad  little.  It  is  a  strange 
thing,  that  in  sea-voyages,  where  there  is  nothing  to  be 
seen  but  sky  and  sea,  men  should  make  diaries;  but 
in  land-travel,  wherein  so  much  is  to  be  observed,  for 
the  most  part  they  omit  it;  as  if  chance  were  fitter  to 
be  registered  than  observation.  Let  diaries  therefore 
be  brought  in  use.  The  things  to  be  seen  and  observed 
are  :*  the  courts  of  princes,  especially  when  they  give 
audience  to  ambassadors:  the  courts  of  justice,  while 
they  sit  and  hear  causes  :  and  so  of  consistories  eccle- 
siastic: the  churches  and  monasteries,  with  the  monu- 
ments which  are  therein  extant :  the  walls  and  fortifi- 
cations of  cities  and  towns,  and  so  the  havens  and  har- 
bours: antiquities  and  ruins;  libraries,  colleges,  dis- 
putations, and  lectures,  where  any  are  ;  shipping  and 
navies;  houses,  and  gardens  of  state  and  pleasure 
near  great  cities;  armories,  arsenals,  magazines,  ex- 
changes, burses,  warehouses;  exercises  of  horseman- 
ship, fencing,  training  of  soldiers,  and  the  like  ;  co- 
medies, such  whereunto  the  better  sort  of  persons  do 
resort;  treasuries  of  jewels  and  robes,  cabinets  and 
rarities  :  and  to  conclude,  whatsoever  is  memorable 
in  the  places  where  they  go.  After  all  which,  the 
tutors  or  servants  ought  to  make  diligent  inquiry.  As 
for  triumphs,  masks,  feasts,  weddings,  funerals,  capital 
executions,  and  such  shews,  men  need  not  to  be  put  in 
mind  of  them;  yet  they  are  not  to  be  neglected.  If 
you  will  have  a  young  man  to  put  his  travel  into  a 
little  room,  and  in  short  time  to  gather  much,  this  you 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  295 

must  do :  first,  as  was  said,  he  must  have  some  entrance 
into  the  language  before  he  goeth.  Then  he  must 
have  such  a  servant,  or  tutor,  as  knovveth  the  country, 
as  was  likewise  said.  Let  him  carry  with  him  also 
some  card  or  book  describing  the  country  where  he 
travelleth,  which  will  be  a  good  key  to  his  inquiry. 
Let  him  keep  also  a  diary.  Let  him  not  stay  long  in 
one  city  or  town;  more  or  less  as  the  place  de- 
serveth,  but  not  long:  nay,  when  he  stayeth  in  one 
city  or  town,  let  him  change  his  lodging  from  one  end 
and  part  of  the  town  to  another,  which  is  a  great 
adamant  of  acquaintance.  Let  him  sequester  himself 
from  the  company  of  his  countrymen,  and  diet  in  such 
places  where  there  is  good  company  of  the  nation 
where  he  travelleth.  Let  him,  upon  his  removes 
from  one  place  to  another,  procure  recommendation 
to  some  person  of  quality  residing  in  the  place  whither 
he  removeth ;  that  he  may  use  his  favour  in  those 
things  he  desireth  to  see  or  know.  Thus  he  may 
abridge  his  travel  with  much  profit.  As  for  the  ac- 
quaintance which  is  to  be  sought  in  travel,  that  which 
is  mOi»t  of  all  profitable,  is  acquaintance  with  the  se- 
cretaries and  employed  men  of  ambassadors;  for  so  in 
travelling  in  one  country,  he  shall  suck  the  experi- 
ence of  many.  Let  him  also  see  and  visit  eminent 
persons  in  all  kinds,  which  are  of  great  name  abroad  ; 
that  he  may  be  able  to  tell  how  the  life  agreeth  with 
the  fame.  For  quarrels,  they  are  with  care  and  dis- 
cretion to  be  avoided:  they  are  commonly  for  mis- 
tresses, healths,  place,  and  words.  And  let  a  man 
beware  how  he  keepeth  company  with  choleric  and 
quarrelsome  persons;  for  they  will  engage  him  into 
their  own  quarrels.  When  a  traveller  returneth  home, 
let  him  not  leave  the  countries  where  he  hath  travelled 
altogether  behind  him;  but  maintain  a  correspon- 
dence by  letters  with  those  of  his  acquaintance  which 
are  of  most  worth.  And  let  his  travel  appear  rather 
in  his  discourse  than  in  his  apparel  or  gesture  ;  and  in 
his  discourse,  let  him  be  rather  advised  in  his  answers 
than  forward  to  tell  stories:  and  let  it  appear  that  he 
doth  not  change  his  country  manners  for  those  of 

296  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

foreign  parts;  but  only  prick  in  some  flowers  of  that 
he  hath  learned  abroad,  into  the  customs  of  his  own 

XIX.     Of  EMPIRE. 

IT  is  a  miserable  state  of  mind  to  have  few  things 
to  desire,  and  many  things  to  fear:  and  yet  that  com- 
monly is  the  case  of  kings,  who  being  at  the  highest, 
want  matter  of  desire,  which  makes  their  minds  more 
languishing:  and  have  many  representations  of  perils 
and  shadows,  which  make  their  minds  the  less  clear. 
And  this  is  one  reason  also  of  that  effect  which  the 
Scripture  speaketh  of,  that  the  king's  heart  is  inscrutable. 
For  multitude  of  jealousies,  and  lack  of  some  predo- 
minant desire,  that  should  marshal  and  put  in  order  all 
the  rest,  maketh  any  man's  heart  hard  to  find  or 
sound.  Hence  it  comes  likewise,  that  princes  many 
times  make  themselves  desires,  and  set  their  hearts 
upon  toys;  sometimes  upon  a  building;  sometimes 
upon  erecting  of  an  order;  sometimes  upon  the  ad- 
vancing of  a  person ;  sometimes  upon  obtaining  ex- 
cellency in  some  art  or  feat  of  the  hand ;  as  Nero  for 
playing  on  the  harp;  Domitian  for  certainty  of  the 
hand  with  the  arrow,  Commodus  for  playing  at  fence; 
Caracalla  for  driving  chariots;  and  the  like.  This 
seemeth  incredible  unto  those  that  know  not  the  prin- 
ciple, That  the  mind  of  man  is  more  cheered  and  rer 
freshed  by  profiting  in  small  things,  than  by  standing 
at  a  stay  in  great.  We  see  also,  that  kings  that  have 
been  fortunate  conquerors  in  their  first  years,  it 
being  not  possible  for  them  to  go  forward  infinitely, 
but  that  they  must  have  some  check  or  arrest  in  their 
fortunes,  turn  in  their  latter  years  to  be  superstitious 
and  melancholy:  as  did  Alexander  the  Great,  Dio- 
clesian,  and  in  our  memory  Charles  the  Fifth,  and 
others;  for  he  that  is  used  to  go 'forward,  and  findeth  a 
stop,  falleth  out  of  his  own  favour,  and  is  not  the 
thing  he  was. 

To  speak  now  of  the  true  temper  of  empire  :  it  is  a 
thing  rare  and  hard  to  keep  ;  for  both  temper  and  dis- 
temper consist  of  contraries.  But  it  is  one  thing  tq 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  297 

mingle  Contraries,  another  to  interchange  them.  The 
answer  of  Apollonius  to  Vespasian  is  full  of  excellent 
instruction :  Vespasian  asked  him,  what  was  Nero's 
overthrow  ?  He  answered,  Nero  could  touch  and 
tune  the  harp  well,  but  in  government  sometimes  he 
used  to  wind  the  pins  too  high,  sometimes  to  let  them 
down  too  low.  And  certain  it  is,  that  nothing  de- 
stroyeth  authority  so  much  as  the  unequal  and  un- 
timely interchange  of  power  pressed  too  tar,  and  re- 
laxed too  much. 

This  is  true,  that  the  wisdom  of  all  these  latter  times 
in  princes  affairs,  is  rather  fine  deliveries,  and  shift- 
ings  of  dangers  and  mischiefs,  when  they  are  near ; 
than  solid  and  grounded  courses  to  keep  them  aloof. 
But  this  is  but  to  try  masteries  with  fortune  :  and  let 
men  beware,  how  they  neglect  and  suffer  matter  of 
trouble  to  be  prepared ;  for  no  man  can  forbid  the 
spark,  nor  tell  whence  it  may  come.  The  difficul- 
ties in  princes  business  are  many  and  great ;  but  the 
greatest  difficulty  is  often  in  their  own  mind.  For  it 
is  common  with  princes,  saith  Tacitus,  to  will  contra- 
dictories. Sunt  plerumque  regum  voluntates  vehement€S, 
et  inter  se  contraritc.  For  it  is  the  solecism  of  power, 
to  think  to  command  the  end,  and  yet  not  to  endure 
the  mean. 

Kings  have  to  deal  with  their  neighbours;  their 
wives  ;  their  children;  their  prelates  or  clergy;  their 
nobles ;  their  second  nobles  or  gentlemen  ;  their  mer- 
chants; their  commons ;  and  their  men  of  war;  and 
from  all  these  arise  dangers,  if  care  and  circumspec- 
tion be  not  used. 

First  for  their  neighbours,  there  can  no  general 
rule  be  given,  the  occasions  are  so  variable,  save  one, 
which  ever  holdeth ;  which  is,  that  princes  do  keep 
due  sentinel  that  none  of  their  neighbours  do  over- 
grow so,  by  increase  of  territory,  by  embracing  of 
trade,  by  approaches,  or  the  like,  as  they  become 
more  able  to  annoy  them,  than  they  were.  And  this 
is  generally  the  work  of  standing  counsels,  to  foresee 
and  to  hinder  it.  During  that  triumvirate  ot  kings: 
Henry  the  Eighth,  of  England  ;  Francis  the 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

First,  king  of  France  ;  and  Charles  the  Fifth,  em- 
peror, there  was  such  a  watch  kept,  that  none  of  the 
three  could  win  a  palm  of  ground,  but  the  other  two 
would  straitways  balance  it,  either  by  confederation, 
or  if  need  were  by  a  war  :  and  would  not  in  any  wise 
take  up  peace  at  interest.  And  the  like  was  done  by 
that  league,  which  Guicciardine  saith,  was  the  secu- 
rity of  Italy,  made  between  Ferdinando,  king  of  Na- 
ples; Lorenzius  Medices  and  Ludovicus  Sforza,  po- 
tentates; the  one  of  Florence,  the  other  of  Milan. 
Neither  is  the  opinion  of  some  of  the  schoolmen  to  be 
received,  that  a  war  cannot  justly  be  made  but  upon  a 
precedent  injury,  or  provocation.  For  there  is  no 
question  but  a  just  fear  of  an  imminent  danger,  though 
there  be  no  blow  given,  is  a  lawful  cause  of  a  war. 

For  their  wives,  there  are  cruel  examples  of  them. 
Livia  is  infamed  for  the  poisoning  of  her  husband  : 
Roxolana,  Solyman's  wife,  was  the  destruction  of  that 
renowned  prince,  Sultan  Mustapha  ;  and  otherwise 
troubled  his  house  and  succession  :  Edward  the  se- 
cond of  England  his  queen  had  the  principal  hand  in 
the  deposing  and  murder  of  her  husband.  Thi>  kind 
of  danger  is  then  to  he  feared,  chiefly,  when  the 
wives  have  plots  for  the  raising  of  their  own  children, 
or  else  that  they  be  advowtresses. 

For  their  children  :  the  tragedies  likewise  of  the 
dangers  from  them  have  been  many :  and  generally, 
the  entering  of  fathers  into  suspicion  of  their  children 
hath  been  ever  unfortunate  The  destruction  of  Mus- 
tapha, that  we  named  before,  was  so  tatal  to  Soiy- 
man's  line,  as  the  succession  of  the  Turks,  from  Soly- 
man  until  this  day,  is  suspected  to  be  untrue,  and  of 
strange  blood  ;  for  that  Selymus  the  second  was 
thought  to  be  supposititious.  The  destruction  of 
Crispus,  a  young  prince  of  rare  towardness,  by  Con- 
stantinus  the  Great,  his  father,  was  in  like  manner 
fatal  to  his  house  ;  for  both  Constantinus  and  Con- 
stance, his  sons,  died  violent  deaths;  and  Constan- 
tius  his  other  son  did  little  better  ;  who  died  indeed 
of  sickness,  but  after  that  Julianus  had  taken  arms 
against  him.  The  destruction  of  Demetrius,  son  to 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  299 

Philip  the  second  of  Macedon,  turned  upon  the  fa- 
ther, who  died  of  repentance.  And  many  like 
examples  there  are ;  but  few  or  none  where  the  fa- 
thers had  good  by  such  distrust,  except  it  were  where 
the  sons  were  up  in  open  arms  against  them  ;  as  was 
Selymus  the  first  against  Bajazet :  and  the  three  sons 
of  Henry  the  second,  king  of  England. 

For  their  prelates,  when  they  are  proud  and  great, 
there  is  also  danger  from  them:  as  it  was  in  the 
times  of  Anselmus  and  Thomas  Becket,  archbishops 
of  Canterbury,  who  with  their  crosiers  did  almost 
try  it  with  the  king's  sword;  and  yet  they  had  to  deal 
with  stout  and  haughty  kings,  William  Rufus,  Henry 
the  first,  and  Henry  the  second.  The  danger  is  not 
from  that  state,  but  where  it  hath  a  dependence  of 
foreign  authority ;  or  where  the  churchmen  come  in, 
and  are  elected,  not  by  the  collation  of  the  king  or 
particular  patrons,  but  by  the  people. 

For  their  nobles ;  to  keep  them  at  a  distance  it  is 
not  amiss;  but  to  depress  them,  may  make  a  king 
more  absolute,  but  less  safe ;  and  less  able  to  perform 
any  thing  that  he  desires  :  I  have  noted  it  in  my 
History  of  king  Henry  the  seventh  of  England,  who  de- 
pressed his  nobility  ;  whereupon  it  came  to  pass  that 
his  times  were  full  of  difficulties  and  troubles :  for 
the  nobility,  though  they  continued  loyal  unto  him, 
yet  did  they  not  co-operate  with  him  in  his  business. 
So  that  in  effect  he  was  fain  to  do  all  things  himself. 

For  their  second  nobles ;  there  is  not  much  danger 
from  them,  being  a  body  dispersed.  They  may  some- 
times discourse  high,  but  that  doth  little  hurt :  be- 
sides, they  are  a  counterpoise  to  the  higher  nobility, 
that  they  grow  not  too  potent :  and  lastly,  being  the 
most  immediate  in  authority  with  the  common  people, 
they  do  best  temper  popular  commotions. 

For  their  merchants,  they  are  vena  porta ;  and  if 
they  flourish  not,  a  kingdom  may  have  good  limbs, 
but  will  have  empty  veins,  and  nourish  little.  Taxes 
and  imposts  upon  them  do  seldom  good  to  the  king's 
revenue,  for  that  that  he  wins  in  the  hundred,  he 
loseth  in  the  shire ;  the  particular  rates  being  in- 

300  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

creased,  but  the  total  bulk  of  trading  rather  de- 

For  their  commons,  there  is  little  danger  from  them, 
except  it  be  where  they  have  great  and  potent  heads ; 
or  where  you  meddle  with  the  point  of  religion,  or 
their  customs  or  means  of  life. 

For  their  men  of  war,  it  is  a  dangerous  state  where 
they  live  and  remain  in  a  body,  and  are  used  to 
donatives,  whereof  we  see  examples  in  the  janizaries 
and  pretorian  bands  of  Rome  ;  but  trainings  of 
men,  and  arming  them  in  several  places,  and  under 
several  commanders,  and  without  donatives,  are  things 
of  defence  and  no  danger. 

Princes  are  like  to  heavenly  bodies,  which  cause 
good  or  evil  times  ;  and  which  have  much  veneration, 
but  no  rest.  All  precepts  concerning  kings  are  in 
effect  comprehended  in  those  two  remembrances: 
Memento  quod  es  homo;  and  Memento  quod  es  Deus,  or 
vice  Dei :  the  one  bridleth  their  power,  and  the  other 
their  will. 

XX.    Of  COUNSEL. 

THE  greatest  trust  between  man  and  man  is  the 
trust  of  giving  counsel.  For  in  other  confidences, 
men  commit  the  parts  of  life  ;  their  lands,  their  goods, 
their  children,  their  credit,  some  particular  affair  ; 
but  to  such  as  they  make  their  counsellors,  they  com- 
mit the  whole:  by  how  much  the  more  they  are 
obliged  to  all  faith  and  integrity.  The  wisest  princes 
need  not  think  it  any  diminution  to  their  greatness,  or 
derogation  to  their  sufficiency,  to  rely  upon  counsel. 
God  himself  is  not  without:  but  hath  made  it  one  of 
the  great  names  of  his  blessed  Son,  the  counsellor. 
Solomon  hath  pronounced,  that  in  counsel  is  stability. 
Things  will  have  their  first  or  second  agitation;  if 
they  be  not  tossed  upon  the  arguments  of  counsel, 
they  will  be  tossed  upon  the  waves  of  fortune  ;  and 
be  full  of  inconstancy,  doing  and  undoing,  like  the 
reeling  of  a  drunken  man.  Solomon's  son  found  the 
force  of  counsel,  as  his  father  saw  the  necessity  of  it. 
For  the  beloved  kingdom  of  God  was  first  rent  and 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  301 

broken  by  ill  counsel ;  upon  which  counsel  there  are 
set,  for  our  instruction,  the  two  marks  whereby  bad 
counsel  is  for  ever  best  discerned :  that  it  was  young 
counsel,  for  the  persons ;  and  violent  counsel,  for  the 

The  ancient  times  do  set  forth  in  figure  both  the 
incorporation  and  inseparable  conjunction  of  counsel 
with  kings,  and  the  wise  and  politic  use  of  counsel 
by  kings  :  the  one,  in  that  they  say  Jupiter  did  many 
Metis,  which  signified!  counsel ;  whereby  they  in- 
tend, that  sovereignty  is  married  to  counsel :  the 
other  in  that  which  followed),  which  was  thus:  they 
say,  after  Jupiter  was  married  to  Metis,  she  conceived 
by  him,  and  was  with  child,  but  Jupiter  suffered  her 
not  to  stay  till  she  brought  forth,  but  eat  her  up  ; 
whereby  he  became  himself  with  child,  and  was  de- 
livered of  Pallas  armed  out  of  his  head.  Which  mon- 
strous fable  contain  eth  a  secret  of  empire  ;  how  kings 
are  to  make  use  of  their  council  of  state :  that,  first, 
they  ought  to  refer  matters  unto  them,  which  is  the 
first  begetting  or  impregnation  ;  but  when  they  are 
elaborate,  moulded  and  shaped  in  the  womb  of  their 
council,  and  grow  ripe  and  ready  to  be  brought  forth, 
that  then  they  suffer  not  their  council  to  go  through 
with  the  resolution  and  direction,  as  if  it  depended  on 
them  ;  but  take  the  matter  back  into  their  own  hands, 
and  make  it  appear  to  the  world,  that  the  decrees  and 
final  directions,  which,  because  they  come  forth  with 
prudence  and  power,  are  resembled  to  Pallas  armed, 
proceeded  from  themselves,  and  not  only  from  their 
authority,  but,  the  more  to  add  reputation  to  them- 
selves, from  their  head  and  device. 

Let  us  now  speak  of  the  inconveniencies  of  counsel, 
and  of  the  remedies.  The  inconveniencies  that  have 
been  noted  in  calling  and  using  counsel  are  three. 
First,  the  revealing  of  affairs,  whereby  they  become 
less  secret.  Secondly,  the  weakening  of  the  authority 
of  princes,  as  if  they  were  less  of  themselves.  Thirdly, 
the  danger  of  being  unfaithfully  counselled,  and  more 
for  the  good  of  them  that  counsel,  than  of  him  that  is 
counselled.  For  which  inconveniencies  the  doctrine 

302  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

of  Italy,  and  practice  of  France,  in  some  kings  times, 
hath  introduced  cabinet  councils  ;  a  remedy  worse 
than  the  disease. 

As  to  secrecy,  princes  are  not  bound  to  communi- 
cate all  matters  with  all  counsellors,  but  may  extract 
and  select.  Neither  is  it  necessary,  that  he  that  con- 
sulteth  what  he  should  do,  should  declare  what  he 
will  do.  But  let  princes  beware,  that  the  unsecreting 
of  their  affairs  comes  not  from  themselves.  And  as 
for  cabinet  councils,  it  may  be  their  motto ;  Plenus 
rimarum  sum :  one  futile  person,  that  maketh  it  his 
glory  to  tell,  will  do  more  hurt  than  many  that  know 
it  their  duty  to  conceal.  It  is  true,  there  be  some 
affairs  which  require  extreme  secrecy,  which  will 
hardly  go  beyond  one  or  two  persons  besides  the 
king :  neither  are  those  counsels  unprosperous ;  for 
besides  the  secrecy,  they  commonly  go  on  constantly 
in  one  spirit  of  direction  without  distraction.  But 
then  it  must  be  a  prudent  king,  such  as  is  able  to 

frind  with  a  hand-mill ;  and  those  inward  counsellors 
ad  need  also  be  wise  men,  and  especially  true  and 
trusty  to  the  king's  ends  ;  as  it  was  with  king  Henry 
the  seventh  of  England,  who  in  his  greatest  business 
imparted  himself  to  none,  except  it  were  to  Morton 
and  Fox. 

For  weakening  of  authority ;  the  fable  sheweth  the 
remedy.  Nay,  the  majesty  of  kings  is  rather  exalted 
than  diminished,  when  they  are  in  the  chair  of  coun- 
cil ;  neither  was  there  ever  prince  bereaved  of  his  de- 
pendences by  his  council,  except  where  there  hath 
been  either  an  over-greatness  in  one  counsellor,  or  an 
over-strict  combination  in  divers  -3  which  are  things 
soon  found  and  holpen. 

For  the  last  inconvenience,  that  men  will  counsel 
with  an  eye  to  themselves;  certainly  Non  inveniet 
fidem  super  terram,  is  meant  of  the  nature  of  times, 
and  not  of  all  particular  persons.  There  be  that  are 
in  nature  faithful  and  sincere,  and  plain  and  direct ; 
not  crafty  and  involved  :  let  princes  above  all  draw  to 
themselves  such  natures.  Besides,  counsellors  are  not 
commonly  so  united,  but  that  one  counsellor  keepeth 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  303 

centinel  over  another ;  so  that  if  any  do  counsel  out 
of  faction  or  private  ends,  it  commonly  comes  to  the 
king's  ear.  But  the  best  remedy  is,  if  princes  know 
their  counsellors,  as  well  as  their  counsellors  know 

Principis  est  virtus  maxima  nossc  suos. 

And  on  the  other  side,  counsellors  should  not  be  too 
speculative  into  their  sovereign's  person.  The  true 
composition  of  a  counsellor  is  rather  to  be  skilful  in 
their  master's  business,  than  in  his  nature ;  for  then 
he  is  like  to  advise  him,  and  not  to  feed  his  humour. 
It  is  of  singular  use  to  princes,  if  they  take  the  opi- 
nions of  their  council  both  separately  and  together : 
for  private  opinion  is  more  free,  but  opinion  before 
others  is  more  reverend.  In  private,  men  are  more 
bold  in  their  own  humours;  and  in  consort,  men  are 
more  obnoxious  to  others  humours ;  therefore  it  is 
good  to  take  both  :  and  of  the  inferior  sort,  rather  in 
private,  to  preserve  freedom  ;  of  the  greater  rather  in 
consort,  to  preserve  respect.  It  is  in  vain  for  princes 
to  take  counsel  concerning  matters,  if  they  take  no 
counsel  likewise  concerning  persons :  for  all  matters 
are  as  dead  images;  and  the  life  of  the  execution  of 
affairs  resteth  in  the  good  choice  of  persons.  Neither 
is  it  enough  to  consult  concerning  persons  secundum 
genera,  as  in  an  idea  or  mathematical  description, 
what  the  kind  and  character  of  the  person  should  be; 
for  the  greatest  errors  are  committed,  and  the  most 
judgment  is  shewn  in  the  choice  of  individuals.  It 
was  truly  said,  optimi  consiliarii  mortui;  books  will 
speak  plain,  when  counsellors  blanch.  Therefore  it 
is  good  to  be  conversant  in  them,  specially  the  books 
of  such  as  themselves  have  been  actors  upon  the  stage. 
The  councils  at  this  day,  in  most  places,  are  but 
familiar  meetings;  where  matters  are  rather  talked  on, 
than  debated :  and  they  run  too  swift  to  the  order 
or  act  of  council.  It  were  better,  that  in  causes  of 
weight  the  matter  were  propounded  one  day,  and  not 
spoken  to  till  the  next  day  ;  in  noctc  consilium.  So 
was  it  done  in  the  commission  of  union  between 
England  3nd  Scotland;  which  was  a  grave  and  or* 

30-1-  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

derly  assembly.  I  commend  set  days  for  petitions : 
for  both  it  gives  the  suitors  more  certainty  for  their 
attendance ;  and  it  frees  the  meetings  for  matters  of 
estate,  that  they  may  hoc.  agere.  In  choice  of  com- 
mittees, tor  ripening  business  for  the  council,  it  is 
better  to  choose  indifferent  persons,  than  to  make  an 
indifferency  by  putting  in  those  that  are  strong  on 
both  sides.  I  commend  also  standing  commissions; 
as  for  trade,  for  treasure,  for  war,  for  suits,  for  some 
provinces  :  tor  where  there  be  divers  particular  coun- 
cils, and  but  one  council  of  estate,  as  it  is  in  Spain, 
they  are,  in  effect,  no  more  than  standing  commissions; 
save  that  they  have  greater  authority.  Let  such  as  are 
to  inform  councils  out  of  their  particular  professions, 
as  lawyers,  seamen,  mint-men,  and  the  like,  be  first 
heard  before  committees;  and  then,  as  occasion 
serves,  before  the  council.  And  let  them  not  come 
in  multitudes,  or  in  a  tribunitious  manner;  for  that  is 
to  clamour  councils,  not  to  inform  them.  A  long 
table,  and  a  square  table,  or  seats  about  the  walls,  seem 
things  of  form,  but  are  things  of  substance  ;  for  at  a 
long  table,  a  few  at  the  upper  end,  in  effect,  sway  all 
the  business;  but  in  the  other  form,  there  is  more  use 
of  the  counsellors  opinions  that  sit  lower.  A  king 
when  he  presides  in  council,  let  him  beware  how  he 
opens  his  owrn  inclination  too  much  in  that  which  he 
propoundeth :  for  else  counsellors  will  but  take  the 
wind  of  him,  and  instead  of  giving  free  counsel  sing 
him  a  song  of  Placebo. 

XXI.     Of  DELAYS. 

FORTUNE  is  like  the  market,  where  many  times 
if  you  can  stay  a  little,  the  price  will  fall.  And 
again,  it  is  sometimes  like  Sibylla's  offer,  which  at 
first  offereth  the  commodity  at  full,  then  consumeth 
part  and  part,  and  still  holdeth  up  the  price.  For 
occasion,  as  it  is  in  the  common  verse,  turneth  a 
bald  noddle,  after  she  hath  presented  her  locks  in 
front,  and  no  hold  taken :  or  at  least  turneth  the 
handle  of  the  bottle  first  to  be  received  ;  and  after 
the  belly,  which  is  hard  to  clasp.  There  is  surely  no 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  305 

greater  wisdom,  than  well  to  time  the  beginnings  and 
onsets  of  things.  Dangers  are  no  more  light,  if  they 
unce  seem  light  :  and  more  clangers  have  deceived 
men,  than  forced  them.  Nay,  it  were  better  to  meet 
some  dangers  half  way,  though  they  come  nothing 
near,  than  to  keep  too  Jong  a  watch  upon  their  ap- 
proaches ;  for  if  a  man  watch  too  long,  it  is  odds  he 
will  fall  asleep.  On  the  other  side,  to  be  deceived 
with  too  long  shadows,  as  some  have  been  when  the 
moon  was  low,  and  shone  on  their  enemies  back,  and 
so  to  shoot  off  before  the  time  >  or  to  teach  dangers 
to  come  on,  by  over-early  buckling  towards  them, 
is  another  extreme.  The  ripeness  or  unripeness  of 
the  occasion*  as  we  said,  must  ever  be  well  weighed  ; 
and  generally  it  is  good  to  commit  the  beginnings  of 
all  great  actions  to  Argos  with  his  hundred  eyes, 
and  the  ends  to  Briareus  with  his  hundred  hands: 
first  to  watch,  and  then  to  speed.  For  the  helmet  of 
Pluto,  which  maketh  the  politic  man  go  invisible,  is 
secrecy  in  the  counsel,  and  celerity  in  the  execution. 
For  when  things  are  once  come  to  the  execution, 
there  is  no  secrecy  comparable  to  celerity  ;  like  the 
motion  of  a  bullet  in  the  air,  which  fiieth  so  swift  as 
it  outruns  the  eye. 


WE  take  cunning  for  a  sinister  or  crooked  wisdom. 
And  certainly  there  is  great  difference  between  a 
cunning  man  and  a  wrise  man;  not  only  in  point  of 
honesty,  but  in  point  of  ability,  There  be  that  can 
pack  the  cards,  and  yet  cannot  play  well ;  so  there 
are  some  that  are  good  in  canvasses  and  factions, 
that  are  otherwise  weak  men.  Again,  it  is  one  thing 
to  understand  persons,  and  another  thing  to  under- 
stand matters ;  for  many  are  perfect  in  men's  humours, 
that  are  not  greatly  capable  of  the  real  part  of 
business  ;  which  is  the  constitution  of  one  that  hath 
studied  men  more  than  books.  Such  men  are  fitter 
for  practice  than  for  counsel ;  and  they  are  good  but 
in  their  own  alley  :  turn  them  to  new  men,  and  they 
have  lost  their  aim  :  so  as  the  old  rule  to  know  a  fool 

VOL.   II.  X 

306  Esseiys,  Civil  and  Moral. 

from  a  wise  man,  Mitte  ambos  nudos  ad  ignofos,  et 
videbis,  doth  scarce  hold  for  them.  And  because 
these  canning  men  are  like  haberdashers  of  small 
wares,  it  is  not  amiss  to  set  forth  their  shop. 

It  is  a  point  of  cunning,  to  wait  upon  him  with 
\vhom  you  speak  with  your  eye ;  as  the  Jesuits  give 
it  in  precept ;  for  there  be  many  wise  men  that  have 
secret  hearts  and  transparent  countenances.  Yet  this 
should  be  done  with  a  demure  abasing  of  your  eye 
sometimes,  as  the  Jesuits  also  do  use. 

Another  is,  that  when  you  have  any  thing  to  ob- 
tain of  present  'dispatch,  you  entertain  and  amuse  the 
party  with  whom  you  deal  with  some  other  discourse  j 
that  he  be  not  too  much  awake  to  make  objections. 
I  knew  a  counsellor  and  secretary,  that  never  came 
to  queen  Elizabeth  of  England  with  bills  to  sign,  but 
he  would  always  first  put  her  into  some  discourse  of 
estate,  that  she  might  the  less  mind  the  bills. 

The  like  surprise  may  be. made  by  moving  things 
when  the  party  is  in  haste,  and  cannot  stay  to  con- 
sider advisedly  of  what  is  moved. 

If  a  man  would  cross  a  business,  that  he  doubts 
some  other  would  handsomely  and  effectually  move, 
Jet  him  pretend  to  wish  it  well,  and  move  it  himself 
in  such  sort  as  may  foil  it. 

The  breaking  off  in  the  midst  of  what  one  was 
about  to  say,  as  if  he  took  himself  up,  breeds  a  greater 
appetite  in  him  with  whom  you  confer,  to  know 

And  because  it  works  better  when  any  thing 
seemeth  to  be  gotten  from  you  by  question,  than  if 
you  offer  it  of  yourself,  you  may  lay  a  bait  for  a  ques- 
tion, by  shewing  another  visage  and  countenance 
than  you  are  wont ;  to  the  end  to  give  occasion  for 
the  party  to  ask  what  the  matter  is  of  the  change  -,  as 
Nehemiah  did,  And  I  had.  not  before  that  time  been  sad 
before  the  king. 

In  things  that  are  tender  and  unpleasing,  it  is  good 
to  break  the  ice  by  some  whose  words  are  of  less 
weight,  and  to  reserve  the  more  weighty  voice  to 

o       *  o      y 

come  in  as.  by  chance,  so  that  he  may  be  asked  the 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

question  upon  the  other's  speech  :  as  Narcissus  did, 
in  relating  to  Claudius  the  marriage  of  Messalina  and 

In  things  that  a  man  would  not  be  seen  in  himself, 
it  is  a  point  of  cunning  to  borrow  the  name  of  the 
world ;  as  to  say,  The  world  says,  or,  There  is  a 
speech  abroad. 

I  knew  one,  that  when  he  wrote  a  letter,  he  would 
put  that  which  was  most  material  in  the  postscript, 
as  if  it  had  been  a  bye-matter. 

I  know  another  that,  when  he  carne  to  have  speech, 
he  would  pass  over  that  that  he  intended  most ;  and 
go  forth,  and  come  back  again,  and  speak  of  it  as  of 
a  thing  that  he  had  almost  forgot. 

Some  procure  themselves  to  be  surprised  at  such 
times,  as  it  is  like  the  party  that  they  work  upon 
will  suddenly  come  upon  them;  and  to  be  found  with 
a  letter  in  their  hand,  or  doing  somewhat  which  they 
are  not  accustomed  to;  to  the  end  they  may  be  ap- 
posed  of  those  things,  which  of  themselves  they  are 
desirous  to  utter. 

It  is  a  point  of  cunning  to  let  fall  those  words  in 
a  man's  own  name,  which  he  would  have  another 
man  learn  and  use,  and  thereupon  take  advantage.  I 
knew  two  that  were  competitors  for  the  secretary's 
place  in  queen  Elizabeth's  time,  and  yet  kept  good 
quarter  between  themselves,  and  would  confer  one 
with  another  upon  the  business;  and  the  one  of  them 
said,  that  to  be  secretary  in  the  declination  of  a 
monarchy  was  a  ticklish  thing,  and  that  he  did  not 
affect  it  :  the  other  straight  caught  up  those  words, 
and  discoursed  with  divers  of  his  friends,  that  he  had 
no  reason  to  desire  to  be  secretary  in  the  declination 
of  a  monarchy.  The  first  man  took  hold  of  it,  and 
found  means  it  was  told  the  queen ;  who  hearing  of 
a  declination  of  a  monarchy,  took  it  so  ill,  as  she 
would  never  after  hear  of  the  other's  suit. 

There  is  a  cunning  which  we  in  England  call,  the 
turning  of  the  cat  in  the  pan  ;  which  'is,  when  that 
which  a  man  says  to  another,  he  lays  it  as  if  another 
had  said  it  to  him;  and  to  say  truth,  it  is  not  easy, 

x  2 

308  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

when  such  a  matter  passed  betwen  two,  to  make 
it  appear  from  which  of  them  it  first  moved  and 
,  began. 

It  is  a  way  that  some  men  have,  to  glance  and  dart  at 
others,  by  justifying  themselves  by  negatives  ;  as  to 
say,  This  I  do  not :  as  Tigellinus  did  towards  Burrhus, 
se  non  diversas  spes,  scd  incohimitatem  impcratoris  sini- 
plidter  spcctare. 

Some  have  in  readiness  so  many  tales  and  stories, 
as  there  is  nothing  they  would  insinuate,  but  they  can 
wrap  it  into  a  tale ;  which  serveth  both  to  keep 
themselves  more  in  guard,  and  to  make  others  carry 
it  with  more  pleasure. 

It  is  a  good  point  of  cunning,  for  a  man  to  shape 
the  answer  he  would  have  in  his  own  words  and  pro- 
positions ;  for  it  makes  the  other  party  stick  the  less.  * 

It  is  strange  how  lon«-  some  men  will  lie  in  wait  to 

O  O 

speak  somewhat  they  desire  to  say ;  and  how  far 
about  they  will  fetch,  and  how  many  other  matters 
they  will  beat  over  to  come  near  it;  it  is  a  thing  of 
great  patience,  but  yet  of  much  use. 

A  sudden,  bold,  and  unexpected  question,  doth 
many  times  surprise  a  man,  and  lay  him  open.  Like 
to  him,  that  having  changed  his  name,  and  walking  in 
Paul's,  another  suddenly  came  behind  him,  and  called 
him  by  his  true  name,  whereat  straight  ways  he  looked 

But  these  small  wares  and  petty  points  of  cunning 
are  infinite,  and  it  were  a  good  deed  to  make  a  list  of 
them  ;  for  that  nothing  doth  more  hurt  in  a  state,  than 
that  cunning  men  pass  for  wise. 

But  certainly  some  there  are  that  know  the  resorts  and 
falls  of  business,  that  cannot  sink  into  the  main  of  it  ; 
like  a  house  that  hath  convenient  stairs  and  entries, 
but  never  a  fair  room.  Therefore  you  shall  see  them 
find  out  pretty  looses  in  the  -conclusion,  but  are  no 
ways  able  to  examine  or  debate  matters.  And  yet 
commonly  they  take  advantage  of  their  inability,  and 
would  be  thought  wits  of  direction.  Some  build  ra- 
ther upon  the  abusing  of  others,  and,  as  we  now  say, 
pulling  -tricks  upon  them,  than  upon  soundness,  of 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  309 

their  own  proceedings.     But  Solomon  saith,  Pmdens 
advertit  ad  gressus  suos :  stultus  divertit  ad  dolos. 


AN  ant  is   a  wise  creature    for  itself:  but  it  is  a 
shrewd  thing  in  an  orchard  or  garden.     And  certainly 
men  that  are  great  lovers  of  themselves  waste  the  pub- 
lic.    Divide  with  reason   between    self-love  and  so- 
ciety; and  be   so  true  to  thyself,  as  thou  be  not  false 
to  others;  especially  to  thy  king  and  country.     It  is  a 
poor  centre  of  a  man's  actions,  Himself.     It  is  right 
earth.     For  that  only  stands  fast  upon  its  own  centre  : 
whereas  all  things  that  have  affinity  with  the  heavens, 
move  upon  the  centre  of  another  which  they  benefit. 
The  referring  of  all  to  a  man's  self  is  more  tolerable 
in  a  sovereign  prince,  because  themselves  are  not  only 
themselves,  but  their  good  and  evil  is  at  the  peril  of 
the  public    fortune.     But  it  is    a    desperate  evil  in  a 
servant  to  a  prince,  or  a  citizen  in  a  republic.     For 
whatsoever  affairs  pass  such  a  man's  hands,  he  crook- 
eth  them  to  his  own  ends:  which  must  needs  be  often 
eccentric  to  the  ends  of  his  master  or  state.     There- 
fore let  princes  or  states  choose  such  servants  as  have 
not  this  mark  ;  except  they  mean  their  service  should 
be    made    but   the  accessary.     That    which   maketh 
the  effect    more  pernicious   is,  that  all  proportion  is 
lost:  it   were  disproportion  enough  for  the.  servant's 
good  to  be  preferred  before  the  master's;  but  yet  it  is 
a  greater  extreme,  when  a  little  good  of  the  servant 
shall  carry  things  against  a  great  good  ot  the  master's. 
And  yet  that  is  the  case  of  bad  officers,  treasurers,  am- 
bassadors, generals,  and  other    false   and  corrupt  ser- 
vants ;  which  set  a  bias  upon  their  bowl  of  their  own 
petty    ends    and    envies,  to  the  overthrow    of  their 
masters  great  and  important  affairs.     And  for  the  most 
part,  the  good  such  servants  receive,  is  after  the  model 
of  their  own  fortune ;  but   the  hurt  they  sell  for   that 
good,  is  after  the  model  of  their  master's  fortune.    And 
certainly  it  is  the  nature  of  extreme  self-lovers,  as  they 
will  set  an  house  on  fire,  and  it  were  but  to  roast  their 
eggs:  and  yet  these  men  many  times  hold  credit  with 

10  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

their  masters,  because  their  study  is  but  to  please  them, 
and  profit  themselves:  and  for  either  respect  they  will 
abandon  the  good  of  their  affairs. 

Wisdom  for  a  man's  self  is  in  many  branches  thereof 
a  depraved  thing.  It  is  the  wisdom  of  rats  that  will  be 
sure  to  leave  a  house  somewhat  before  it  fall.  It  is  the 
wisdom  of  the  fox  that  thrusts  out  the  badger,  who 
digged  and  made  room  for  him.  It  is  the  wisdom  of 
crocodiles,  that  shed  tears  when  they  would  devour. 
But  that  which  is  specially  to  be  noted  is,  that  those 
which,  as  Cicero  says  of  Pompey,  are  sui  amantcs  sine 
rivali,  are  many  times  unfortunate.  And  whereas 
they  have  all  their  time  sacrificed  to  themselves,  they 
become  in  the  end  themselves  sacrifices  to  the  incon- 
stancy of  fortune,  whose  wings  they  thought  by  their 
self-wisdom  to  have  pinioned. 


AS  the  births  of  living  creatures  at  first  are  ill 
shapen  ;  so  are  all  inno\  ations,  which  are  the  births  ot 
time.  Yet  notwithstanding  as  those  that  first  bring 
honour  into  their  family,  are  commonly  more  worthy 
than  most  that  succeed  :  so  the  first  precedent,  if  it 
be  good,  is  seldom  attained  by  imitation.  For  ill,  to 
man's  nature,  as  it  stands  perverted,  hath  a  natural 
motion  strongest  in  continuance  :  but  good  as  a  forced 
motion,  strongest  at  first.  Surely  every  medicine  is  an 
innovation,  and  he  that  will  not  apply  new  remedies, 
must  expect  new  evils  ;  for  time  is  the  greatest  inno- 
vator :  and  if  time  of  course  alter  things  to  the  worse, 
and  wisdom  and  counsel  shall  not  alter  them  to  the 
better,  what  shall  be  the  end  ?  It  is  true,  that  what 
is  settled  by  custom,  though  it  be  not  good,  yet  at 
least  it  is  fit.  And  those  things  which  have  long  gone 
together,  are,  as  it  were,  confederate  within  them- 
selves :  whereas  new  things  piece  not  so  well ;  but 
though  they  help  by  their  utility,  yet  they  trouble  by 
their  unconformity.  Besides,  they  are  like  strangers, 
more  admired  and  less  favoured.  All  this  is  true  if 
time  stood  still;  which  contrariwise  moveth  so  round, 
that  a  froward  retention  of  custom  is  as  turbulent  a 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

thing  as  an  innovation  ;  and  they  that  reverence  too 
much  old  times  are  but  a  scorn  to  the  new.  It  were 
good,  therefore,  that  men  in  their  innovations  would 
follow  the  example  of  time  itself,  which  indeed  inno- 
vateth  greatly,  but  quietly  and  by  degrees  scarce  to  be 
perceived :  for  otherwise,  whatsoever  is  new  is  un- 
Jooked  for ;  and  ever  it  mends  some,  and  impairs  others  : 
and  he  that  is  holpen  takes  it  for  a  fortune,  and  thanks 
the  time ;  and  he  that  is  hurt,  for  a  wrong,  and  im- 
puteth  it  to  the  author.  It  is  good  also  not  to  try  ex- 
periments in  states,  except  the  necessity  be  urgent,  or 
the  utility  evident;  and  well  to  beware  that  it  be 
the  reformation  that  draweth  on  the  change;  and 
not  the  desire  of  change  that  pretendeth  the  reforma- 
tion. And  lastly,  that  the  novelty,  though  it  be  not 
rejected,  yet  be  held  for  a  suspect:  and,  as  the  Scrip- 
ture saith,  that  ice  make  a  stand  upon  the  ancient  way, 
and  then  look  about  its,  and  discover  what  is  the  straight 
and  right  way,  and  so  to  walk  in  it. 


AFFECTED  dispatch  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous 
things  to  business  that  can  be.  It  is  like  that  which 
the  physicians  call  predigestion,  or  hasty  digestion, 
which  is  sure  to  fill  the  body  full  of  crudities  and  secret 
seeds  of  diseases.  Therefore  measure  not  dispatch  by 
the  times  of  sitting,  but  by  the  advancement  of  the 
business.  And  as  in  races,  it  is  not  the  large  stride,  or 
high  lift,  that  makes  the  speed,  so  in  business,  the 
keeping  close  to  the  matter,  and  not  taking  of  it  too 
much  at  once,  procureth  dispatch.  It  is  the  care  of 
some,  only  to  come  off  speedily  for  the  time ;  or  to 
contrive  some  false  periods  of  business,  because  they 
may  seem  men  of  dispatch.  But  it  is  one  thing  to 
abbreviate  by  contracting,  another  by  cutting  off;  and 
business  so  handled  at  several  sittings  or  meetings, 
goeth  commonly  backward  and  forward  in  an  un- 
steady manner.  I  knew  a  wise  man  that  had  it  for  a 
by-word,  when  he  saw  men  hasten  to  a  conclusion, 
"  Stay  a  little,  that  we  may  make  an  end  the  sooner." 

On  the  other  side,  true  dispatch  is  a  rich  thing.  For 

312  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral 

time  is  the  measure  of  business,  as  money  is  of  wares : 
and  business  is  bought  at  a  dear  hand,  where  there  is 
small  dispatch.  The  Spartans  apd  Spaniards  have  been 
noted  to  be  of  small  dispatch  :  Mi  reiiga  la  mucrtc  de 
&pagna;  Let  my  death  come  from  Spain;  for  then  it 
will  be  sure  to  be  long  in  coming. 

Give  good  hearing  to  those  that  give  the  first  in- 
formation in  business:  and  rather  direct  them  in  the 
beginning,  than  interrupt  them  in  the  continuance  of 
their  speeches:  for  he  that  is  put  out  of  his  own  or- 
der, will  go  forward  and  backward,  and  be  more  te- 
dious while  he  waits  upon  his  memory,  than  he  could 
have  been  it  he  had  gone  on  in  his  own  course.  But 
sometimes  it  is  seen,  that  the  moderator  is  more  trou- 
blesome than  the  actor. 

Iterations  are  commonly  loss  of  time:  but  there  is 
no  such  gain  of  time,  as  to  iterate  often  the  state  ofthe 
question;  for  it  chaseth  away  many  a  frivolous  speech 
as  it  is  coming  forth.  Long  and  curious  speeches  are 
as  fit  for  dispatch  as  a  robe  or  mantle  with  a  long 
train  is  for  a  race.  Prefaces,  and  passages,  and  ex- 
cusations,  and  other  speeches  of  reference  to  the  per- 
son, are  great  wastes  of  time  ;  and  though  they  seem 
to  proceed  of  modesty,  they  are  bravery.  Yet  beware 
of  being  too  material,  when  there  is  any  impediment 
or  obstruction  in  men's  wills;  for  pre-occupation  of 
mind  ever  requircth  preface  of  speech  ;  like  a  fomenta- 
tion to  make  the  unguent  enter. 

Above  all  things,  order,  and  distribution,  and  sin- 
gling out  of  parts,  is  the  lite  of  dispatch  ;  so  as  the  dis- 
tribution be  not  too  subtile:  for  he  that  doth  not  di- 
vide, will  never  enter  well  into  business;  and  he  that 
divideth  too  much,  will  never  come  out  of  it  clearly. 
To  choose  time,  is  to  save  time;  and  an  unseasonable 
motion  is  but  beating  the  air.  There  be  three  parts 
of  business;  the  preparation,  the  debate  or  examina- 
tion, and  the  perfection.  Whereof,  if  you  look  for 
dispatch,  let  the  middle  only  be  the  work  of  many, 
and  the  first  and  last  the  work  of  few.  The  proceed- 
ing upon  somewhat  conceived  in  writing,  doth  for  the 
most  part  facilitate  dispatch:  for  though  it  should  bo 

Essays,  Civ  Hand  Moral.  313 

wholly  rejected,  yet  that  negative  is  more  pregnant 
of  direction  than  an  indefinite;  as  ashes  are  more  ge- 
nerative than  dust. 


IT  hath  been' an  opinion,  that  the  French  are  wiser 
than  they  scern,  and  the  Spaniards  seem  wiser  than 
they  are.  But  howsoever  it  be  between  nations,  cer- 
tainly it  is  so  between  man  and  man.  For  as  the 
apostle  saith  of  godliness,  having  a  shew  of  godliness, 
but  denying  the  power  thereof;  so  certainly  there  are  in 
point  of  wisdom  and  sufficiency  that  do  nothing  or 
little  very  solemnly  ;  magno  conatu  nugas.  It  is  a  ri- 
diculous thing,  and  fit  for  a  satire  to  persons  of  judg- 
ment, to  see  what  shifts  these  formalists  have,  and 
what  prospectives  to  make  superficies  to  seem  body 
that  hath  depth  in  bulk.  Some  are  so  close  and  re- 
served, as  they  will  not  shew  their  wrares  but  by  a 
dark  light ;  and  seem  always  to  keep  back  some- 
what; and  when  they  know  within  themselves, 
they  speak  of  that  they  do  not  well  know,  would  ne- 
vertheless seem  to  others  to  know  of  that  which  they 
may  not  well  speak.  Some  help  themselves  with 
countenance  and  gesture,  and  are  wise  by  signs ;  as 
Cicero  saith  of  Piso,  that  when  he  answered  him,  he 
fetched  one  of  his  brows  up  to  his  forehead,  arid  bent 
the  other  down  to  his  chin  :  respondes,  altero  adfron- 
tem  sublato,  altero  ad  mentum  depresso  supercilio,  cru- 
delitatevi  tibi  non  placere.  Some  think  to  bear  it  by 
speaking  a  great  word,  and  being  peremptory ;  and 
go  on,  and  take  by  admittance  that  which  they  can- 
not make  good.  Some,  whatsoever  is  beyond  their 
reach,  will  seem  to  despise  or  make  light  of  it  as  im- 
pertinent or  curious;  and  so  would  have  their  igno- 
rance seem  judgment.  Some  are  never  without  a 
difference,  and  commonly  by  amusing  men  with  a  sub- 
tiltv,  blanch  the  matter;  of  whom  A.  Gellius  saith, 
hominem  delirum,  qui  verborum  minutiis  rerumfrangit. 
ponder  a.  Of  which  kind  also,  Plato  in  his  Protagoras 
bringeth  in  Prodicus  in  scorn,  and  maketh  him  make 
a  speech  that  consisteth  of  distinctions  from  the  be- 

S 1 4:  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

ginning  to  the  end.  Generally  such  men  in  all  delibe- 
rations find  ease  to  be  of  the  negative  side,  and  affect 
a  credit  to  object  and  foretel  difficulties  :  for  when 
propositions  are  denied,  there  is  an  end  of  them  ;  but  if 
they  be  allowed,  it  requireth  anew  work  :  which  false 
point  of  wisdom  is  the  bane  of  business.  To  con- 
clude, there  is  no  decaying  merchant,  or  inward  beg- 
gar, hath  so  many  tricks  to  uphold  the  credit  of  their 
wealth,  as  these  empty  persons  have  to  maintain  the 
credit  of  their  sufficiency.  Seeming  wise  men  may 
make  shift  to  get  opinion;  but  Jet  no  man  choose 
them  for  employment,  for  certainly  you  were  better 
take  for  business  a  man  somewhat  absurd,  than  over 


IT  had  been  hard  for  him  that  spake  it  to  have  put 
more  truth  and  untruth  together,  in  tew  words,  than 
in  that  speech  ;  "  Whosoever  is  delighted  in  solitude, 
<c  is  either  a  wild  beast  or  a  God."  For  it  is  most 
true,  that  a  natural  and  secret  hatred,  and  aversation 
towards  society,  in  any  man,  hath  somewhat  of  the 
savage  beast :  but  it  is  most  untrue,  that  it  should 
have  any  character  at  all  of  the  divine  nature,  except 
it  proceed,  not  out  of  a  pleasure  in  solitude,  but  out 
of  a  love  and  desire  to.  sequester  a  man's  self  for  a 
higher  conversation  :  such  as  is  found  to  have  been 
falsly  and  feignedly  in  some  of  the  heathen  ;  as  Epi- 
menides  the  Candian,  Numa  the  Roman,  Empedocles 
the  Sicilian,  and  Apollonius  of  Tyana  ;  and  truly  and 
really  in  divers  of  the  ancient  hermits,  and  holy  fa- 
thers of  the  church.  But  little  do  men  perceive  what 
solitude  is,  and  how  far  it  extendeth.  For  a  crowd 
is  not  company,  and  faces  are  but  a  gallery  of  pic- 
tures ;  and  talk  but  a  tinkling  cymbal,  where  there  is 
no  love.  The  Latin  adage  mecteth  with  it  a  little  ; 
Mngim  civitas,  magna  solitudo ,  because  in  a  great  town 
friends  are  scattered,  so  that  there  is  not  that  fellow- 
ship, for  the  most  part,  which  is  -in  less  neighbour- 
hoods. But  we  may  go  farther,  and  affirm  most  truly, 
that  it  is  a  mere  and  miserable  solitude,  to  want  true 

S0yt ,  Civil  and  Moral.  3 I 5 

friends,  without  which  the  world  is  but  a  wilderness. 
And  even  in  this  sense  also  of  solitude,  whosoever  in 
the  frame  of  his  nature  and  affections  is  unfit  for  friend- 
ship, he  taketh  it  of  the  beast,  and  not  from  hu- 

A  principal  fruit  of  friendship  is  the  ease  and  dis- 
charge of  the  fulness  and  swellings  of  the  heart,  which 
passions  of  all  kinds  do  cause  and  induce.  We  know 
diseases  of  stoppings  and  suffocations  are  the  most  dan- 
gerous in  the  body  ;  and  it  is  not  much  otherwise  in  the 
mind ;  you  may  take  sarza  to  open  the  liver  ;  steel  to 
open  the  spleen;  flour  of  sulphur  for  the  lungs  ;  cas- 
toreum  for  the  brain ;  but  no  receipt  openeth  the  heart 
but  a  true  friend,  to  whom  you  may  impart  griefs, 
joys,  fears,  hopes,  suspicions,  counsels,  and  whatso- 
ever lieth  upon  the  heart,  to  oppress  it,  in  a  kind  of 
civil  shrift  or  confession. 

It  is  a  strange  thing  to  observe,  how  high  a  rate 
great  kings  and  monarchs  do  set  upon  this  fruit  of 
friendship,  whereof  we  speak;  so  great,  as  they  pur- 
chase it  many  times  at  the  hazard  of  their  own  safety 
and  greatness.  For  princes,  in  regard  of  the  distance 
of  their  fortune  from  that  of  their  subjects  and  ser- 
vants, cannot  gather  this  fruit,  except,  to  make  them- 
selves capable  thereof,  they  raise  some  persons  to  be 
as  it  were  companions,  and  almost  equals  to  them- 
selves; which  many  times  sorteth  to  inconvenience. 
The  modern  languages  give  unto  such  persons  the 
name  of  favourites  or  privadoes  ;  as  if  it  were  matter 
of  grace  or  conversation :  but  the  Roman  name  at- 
taineth  the  true  use  and  cause  thereof;  naming  them 
partlcipes  air  arum  ;  for  it  is  that  which  tieth  the  knot. 
And  we  see  plainly,  that  this  hath  been  done,  not  by 
weak  and  passionate  princes  only,  but  by  the  wisest 
and  most  politic  that  ever  reigned,  who  have  often- 
times joined  to  themselves  some  of  their  servants, 
whom  both  themselves  have  called  friends,  and  al- 
lowed others  likewise  to  call  them  in  the  same  man- 
ner, using  the  word  which  is  received  between  pri- 
vate men. 

L.  Sylla,  when  he  commanded  Rome,  raised  Pom- 

1 6  Essays  >  Civil  and  Moral. 

pey,  after  surnamcd  the  Great,  to  that  height,  that 
Pompey  vaunted  himself  for  Sylla's  over-match.  For 
•when  he  had  carried  the  consulship  for  a  friend  of  his 
against  the  pursuit  ofSylla,  and  that  Sylla  did  a  little 
resent  thereat,  and  began  to  speak  great,  Pompey 
turned  upon  him  again,  and  in  effect  bade  him  be 
quiet ;  for  that  more  men  adore  the  sun  rising,  than 
the  sun  setting.  With  Julius  Csesar,  Decimus  Brutus 
had  obtained  that  interest,  as  he  set  him  down  in  his 
testament  for  heir  in  remainder  after  his  nephew. 
And  this  was  the  man  that  had  power  with  him  to 
draw  him  forth  to  his  death.  For  when  Csesar  would 
rlave  discharged  the  senate,  in  regard  of  some  ill  pre- 
sages, and  specially  a  dream  of  Calpurnia ;  this  man 
Jifted  him  gently  by  the  arm  out  of  his  chair,  telling 
him,  He  hoped  he  would  not  dismiss  the  senate,  till 
his  wife  had  dreamed  a  better  dream.  And  it  seem- 
eth,  his  favour  wras  so  great,  as  Antonius,  in  a  letter 
which  is  recited  verbatim  in  one  of  Cicero's  Philippics, 
callet-h  him  venefica,  witch  ;  as  if  he  had  enchanted 
Caesar.  Augustus  raised  Agrippa,  though  of  mean 
birth,  to  that  height,  as  when  he  consulted  with 
Maecenas  about  the  marriage  of  his  daughter  Julia, 
Maecenas  took  the  liberty  to  tell  him,  That  he  must 
either  marry  his  daughter  to  Agrippa,  or  take  away 
his  life  ;  there  was  no  third  way,  he  had  made  him  so 
great.  With  Tiberius  Csesar,  Sejanus  had  ascended  to 
that  height,  as  they  two  were  termed  and  reckoned  as 
a  pair  of  friends.  Tiberius  in  a  letter  to  him  saith  ; 
Hcec  pro  amidtia  nostra  non  occidtavi :  an<J  the  whole 
senate  dedicated  an  altar  to  Friendship  as  to  a  goddess, 
in  respect  of  the  great  dearness  of  friendship  between 
them  two.  The  like  or  more  was  between  Septimius 
Severus  and  Plantianus.  For  he  forced  his  eldest  son 
to  marry  the  daughter  of  Plantianus  ;  and  would 
often  maintian  Plantianus  in  doing  affronts  to  his  son  : 
and  did  write  also  in  a  letter  to  the  senate,  by  these 
words:  "  I  love  the  man  so  we'll,  as  I  wish  he  may 
<c  over-live  me."  Now  if  these  princes  had  been  as  a 
Trajan,  or  a  Marcus  Aurelius,  a  man  might  have 
thought  that  this  had  proceeded  of  an  abundant  good- 

Essays,  'Civil  and  Moral. 

ness  of  nature  ;  but  being  men  so  wise,  of  such 
strength  and  severity  of  mind,  and  so  extreme  lovers 
of  themselves,  as  all  these  were ;  it  proveth  most 
plainly,  that  they  found  their  own  felicity,  though  as 
great  as  ever  happened  to  mortal  men,  but  as  an  half 
piece,  except  they  might  have  a  friend  to  make  it  en- 
tire ;  and  yet,  which  is  more,  they  were  princes  that 
had  wives,  sons,  nephews ;  and  yet  all  these  could 
not  supply  the  comfort  of  friendship. 

It  is  not  to  be  forgotten  what  Commineus  ohserveth 
of  his  first  master  duke  Charles  the  Hardy,  namely, 
That  he  would  communicate  his  secrets  with  none; 
and  least  of  all  those  secrets  which  troubled  him  most. 
Whereupon  he  goeth  on,  and  saith,  That  towards  his 
latter  time,  that  closeness  did   impair,   and   a  little 
perish  his  understanding.     Surely  Coinmineus  might 
have  made  the  same  judgment  also,  if  it  had  pleased 
him,  of  his  second  master  Lewis  the  eleventh,  whose 
closeness  was  indeed  his  tormentor.      The  parable  of 
Pythagoras  is  dark,  but  true;  Cor  ?ie edito,  eat  not  the 
heart.      Certainly,  if  a  man   would  give  it  a  hard 
phrase,  those  that  want  friends  to  open  themselves 
unto,  are   cannibals  of  their  own  hearts.     But  one 
thing  is  most  admirable,  wherewith  I  will  conclude 
this  first  fruit  of  friendship,  which  is,  that  this  com- 
municating of  a  man's  self  to  his  friend  works  two 
contrary  effects;    for  it  redoubleth  joys,  and  cutteth 
griefs  in  half's.     For  there  is  no  man  that  imparteth 
his  joys  to  his  friend,  but  he  joyeth  the  more  ;  and  no 
man  that  Fmparteth  his  griefs  to  his  friend,   but  he 
grieveth  the  less.     So  that  it  is  in  truth  of  operation 
upon  a  man's  mind  of  like  virtue,  as  the  alchemists 
use  to  attribute  to  their  stone,  for  man's  body ;  that  it 
worketh  all  contrary  effects,  but  still  to  the  good  and 
benefit  of  nature.     But  yet,  without  praying  in  aid  of 
alchemists,  there  is  a  manifest  image  of  this  in  the 
ordinary   course    of  nature.       For  .in   bodies,  unign 
strengthened!  and  cherisheth  any  natural  action  ;  and, 
on  the  other  side,  weakeneth  and  duileth  any  violent 
impression  ;  and  even  so  is  it  of  minds. 

The  second  fruit  of  friendship,  is  healthful  and  sove- 

318  EfMyty  Civil  and  Marat. 

reign  for  the  understanding,  as  the  first  is  for  the  affec- 
tions. For  friendship  maketh  indeed  a  fair  day  in  the 
affections,  from  storm  and  tempests;  but  it  maketh 
day-light  in  the  understanding,  out  of  darkness  and 
confusion  of  thoughts :  neither  is  this  to  be  under- 
stood only  of  faithful  counsel,  which  a  man  receiveth 
from  his  friend;  but  before  you  come  to  that,  certain 
it  is,  that  whosoever  hath  his  mind  fraught  with  many 
thoughts,  his  wits  and  understanding  do  clarify  and 
break  up  in  the  communicating  and  discoursing  with 
another :  he  tosseth  his  thoughts  more  easily;  he  mar- 
shalleth  them  more  orderly ;  he  seeth  how  they  look 
when  they  are  turned  into  words;  finally,  he  waxeth 
wiser  than  himself;  and  that  more  by  an  hour's  dis- 
course, than  by  a  day's  meditation.  It  was  well  said 
by  Themistocles  to  the  king  of  Persia,  That  speech 
was  like  cloth  of  Arras,  opened  and  put  abroad, 
whereby  the  imagery  doth  appear  in  figure;  whereas 
in  thoughts  they  lie  but  as  in  packs.  Neither  is  this 
second  fruit  of  friendship,  in  opening  the  understand- 
ing, restrained  only  to  such  friends,  as  are  able  to  give 
a  man  counsel;  they  indeed  are  best,  but  even,  with- 
out that,  a  man  learneth  of  himself,  and  bringeth  his 
own  thoughts  to  light,  and  whetteth  his  wits  as  against 
•a  stone,  which  itself  cuts  not.  In  a  word ;  a  man 
were  better  relate  himself  to  a  statue  or  picture,  than 
to  suffer  his  thoughts  to  pass  in  smother. 

Add  now,  to  make  this  second  fruit  of  friendship 
complete,  that  other  point  which  lieth  more  open, 
and  falleth  within  vulgar  observation  ;  which  is  faith- 
ful counsel  from  a  friend.  Heraclitus  saith  well  in 
one  of  his  enigmas,  Dry  light  is  ever  the  best.  And 
certain  it  is,  that  the  light  that  a  man  receiveth  by 
counsel  from  another,  is  drier  and  purer,  than  that 
which  cometh  from  his  own  understanding  and  judg- 
ment;, which  is  ever  infused  and  drenched  in  his  affec- 
tions and  customs.  So  as  there  is  as  much  difference 
between  the  counsel  that  a  friend  giveth,  and  that  a 
man  giveth  himself,  as  there  is  between  the  counsel  of 
a  friend  and  of  a  flatterer.  For  there  is  no  such  flatterer 
as  is  a  man's  self  3  and  there  is  no  sucli  remedy  against 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  3  i  * 

flattery  of  a  man's  self,  as  the  liberty  of  a  friend. 
Counsel  is  of  two  sorts;  the  one  concerning  manners, 
the  other  concerning  business.  For  the  first,  the  best 
preservative  to  keep  the  mind  in  health,  is  the  faithful 
admonition  of  a  friend.  The  calling  of  a  man's  self 
to  a  strict  account,  is  a  medicine  sometimes  too  pierc- 
ing and  corrosive.  Reading  good  books  of  morality, 
is  a  little  flat  and  dead.  Observing  our  faults  in 
others,  is  sometimes  improper  for  our  case  :  but  the 
best  receipt,  best,  I  say,  to  work,  and  best  to  take,  is 
the  admonition  of  a  friend!  It  is  a  strange  thing  to 
behold  what  gross  errors  and  extreme  absurdities 
many,  especially  of  the  greater  sort,  do  commit  for 
want  of  a  friend  to  tell  them  of  them;  to  the  great 
damage  both  of  their  fame  and  fortune.  For,  as  St« 
James  saith,  they  are  as  men  that  look  sometimes  into 
a  glass,  and  presently  forget  their  own  shape  and  favour. 
As  for  business,  a  man  may  think  if  he  will,  that  two 
eyes  see  no  more  than  one ;  or  that  a  gamester  sceth 
always  more  than  a  looker-on  ;  or  that  a  man  in  anger 
is  as  wise  as  he  that  hath  said  over  the  four  and  twenty 
letters ;  or  that  a  musket  may  be  shot  off,  as  well  upon 
the  arm,  as  upon  a  rest;  and  such  other  fond  and  high 
imaginations,  to  think  himself  all  in  all.  But  when 
all  his  done,  the  help  of  good  counsel  is  that  which 
setteth  business  straight.  And  if  any  man  think,  that 
he  will  take  counsel,  but  it  shall  be  by  pieces ;  ask- 
ing counsel  in  one  business  of  one  man,  and  in 
another  business  of  another  man;  it  is  well,  that  is 
to  say,  better  perhaps  than  if  he  asked  none  at  all, 
but  he  runneth  two  dangers  :  one,  that  he  shall  not 
be  faithfully  counselled  ;  for  it  is  a  rare  thing,  except 
it  be  from  a  perfect  and  entire  friend,  to  have  counsel 
given,  but  such  as  shall  be  bowed  and  crooked  to 
some  ends  which  he  hath  that  giveth  it.  The  other, 
that  he  shall  have  counsel  given,  hurtful  and  unsafe, 
though  with  good  meaning,  and  mixed  partly  of 
mischief,  and  partly  of  remedy  :  even  as  if  you  would 
call  a  physician  that  is  thought  good  for  the  cure  of 
the  disease  you  complain  of,  but  is  unacquainted  with 
your  body ;  and  therefore  may  put  you  in  way  for- 

320  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

a  present  cure,  but  overthroweth  your  health  in  some 
other  kind,  and  so  cure  the  disease  and  kill  the  pa- 
tient. But  a  friend  that  is  wholly  acquainted  with  a 
man's  estate,  will  beware  by  furthering  any  present 
business  how  he  dasheth  upon  other  inconvenience. 
And  therefore  rest  not  upon  scattered  counsels  ;  they 
will  rather  distract  and  mislead,  than  settle  and 
After  these  two  noble  fruits  of  friendship,  peace  in 
the  affections,  and  support  of  the  judgment,  followeth 
the  last  fruit,  which  is  like  the  pomegranate,  full  of 
many  kernels  ;  I  mean  aid,  and  bearing  a  part  in  all 
actions  and  occasions.  Here  the  best  wray  to  repre- 
sent to  life  the  manifold  use  of  friendship,  is  to  cast 
and  see  how  many  things  there  are  which  a  man 
cannot  do  himself;  and  then  it  will  appear  that  it 
was  a  sparing  speech  of  the  ancients  to  say,  That  a 
friend  is  another  himself;  for  that  a  friend  is  far  more 
than,  himself.  Men  have  their  time,  and  die  many 
times  in  desire  of  somethings  which  they  principally 
take  to  heart ;  the  bestowing  of  a  child,  the  finishing 
of  a  work,  or  the  like.  If  a  man  have  a  true  friend, 
he  may  rest  almost  secure,  that  the  care  of  those 
things  will  continue  after  him.  So  that  a  man  hath 
as  it  were  two  lives  in  his  desires.  A  man  hath  a 
body,  and  that  body  is  confined  to  a  place ;  but  where 
friendship  is,  all  offices  of  life  are  as  it  were  granted 
to  him  and  his  deputy :  for  he  may  exercise  them  by 
his  friend.  How  many  things  are  there,  which  a  man 
cannot,  with  any  face  or  comeliness,  say  or  do  him- 
self? A  man  can  scarce  alledge  his  own  merits  with 
modesty,  much  less  extol  them  :  a  man  cannot  some- 
times brook  to  supplicate  or  beg  ;  and  a  number  of 
the  like.  But  all  these  things  are  graceful  in  a  friend's 
mouth,  which  are  blushing  in  a  man's  own.  So 
again,  a  man's  person  hath  many  proper  relations, 
which  he  cannot  put  off.  A  man  cannot  speak  to  his 
son  but  as  a  father ;  to  his  wife,  but  as  a  husband  ;  to 
his  enemy,  but  upon  terms;  whereas  a  friend  may 
speak  as  the  case  requires,  and  not  as  it  sorteth  with 
the  person.  But  to  enumerate  these  things  were  end- 

Essays,  Civil.  and  Moral.  321 

less  ;  I  have  given  the  rule,  where  a  man  cannot  fitly 
play  his  own  part  ^  if  he  have  not  a  friend,  he  may 
quit  the  stage. 

xxYirr.    of 

RICHES  are  for  spending;  and  spending  for  ho- 
nour and  good  actions.  Therefore  extraordinary  ex- 
pence  must  be  limited  by  the  worth  of  the  occasion; 
for  voluntary  undoing  may  be  as  well  for  a  man's 
country,  as  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  But  ordinary 
expence  ought  to  be  limited  by  a  man's  estate,  and 
governed  with  such  regard  as  it  be  within  his  com- 
pass; and  not  subject  to  deceit  and  abuse  of  servants  ; 
and  ordered  to  the  best  shew,  that  the  bills  may  be 
less  than  the  estimation  abroad.  Certainly  if  a  man 
will  keep  but  of  even  hand,  his  ordinary  expences 
ought  to  be  but  to  the  half  of  his  receipts;  and  if  he 
think  to  wax  rich,  but  to  the  third  part.  It  is  no 
baseness  for  the  greatest,  to  descend  and  look  into 
their  own  estate.  Some  forbear  it,  not  upon  negli- 
gence alone,  but  doubting  to  bring  themselves  into 
melancholy,  in  respect  they  shall  find  it  broken.  But 
wounds  cannot  be  cured  without  searching.  He  that 
cannot  look  into  his  own  estate  at  all,  had  need  both 
choose  well  those  whom  he  employeth,  and  change 
them  often  :  for  new  are  more  timorous  and  less  sub- 
tile. He  that  can  look  into  his  estate  but  seldom,  it 
behoveth  him  to  turn  all  to  certainties.  A  man  had 
need,  if  he  be  plentiful  in  some  kind  of  expence,  to  be 
as  saving  again  in  some  other.  As  if  he  be  plentiful  in 
diet,  to  be  saving  in  apparel  :  if  he  be  plentiful  in  the 
hall,  to  be  saving  in  the  stable:  and  the  like.  For 
he  that  is  plentiful  in  expences  of  all  kinds,  will 
hardly  be  preserved  from  decay.  In  clearing  of  a 
man's  estate,  he  may  as  well  hurt  himself  in  being  too 
sudden,  as  in  letting  it  run  on  too  long:  for  hasty 
selling  is  com  ai  only  as  di  sad  vantage  able  as  interest. 
Besides,  he  that  clears  at  once  will  relapse  ;  for  finding 
himself  out  of  straits,  he  will  revert  to  his  customs; 
but  he  that  cleareth  by  degress  induceth  a  habit  of 
frugality,  and  gaineth  as  well  upon  his  mind  as  upon  his 

VOL.  II.  Y 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

estate.  Certainly,  who  hath  a  state  to  repair,  may 
not  despise  small  things :  and  commonly  it  is  less  dis- 
honourable to  abridge  petty  charges,  than  to  stoop  to 
petty  gettings.  A  man  ought  warily  to  begin  charges, 
which  once  begun  will  continue  ;  but  in  matters  that 
return  not,  he  may  be  more  magnificent. 

XXIX.    Of  the  TRUE  GREATNESS  of  KINGDOMS  and 

THE  speech  of  Themistocles  the  Athenian,  which 
was  haughty  and  arrogant  in  taking  so  much  to  him- 
self, had  been  a  grave  and  wise  observation  and  cen- 
sure, applied  at  large  to  others.  Desired  at  a  feast  to 
touch  a  lute,  he  said,  He  could  not  fiddle,  but  yet  he 
could  make  a  small  town  a  great  city.  These  words, 
holpen  a  little  with  a  metaphor,  may  express  two 
differing  abilities  in  those  that  deal  in  business  of 
estate.  For  if  a  true  survey  be  taken  of  counsellors 
and  statesmen,  there  may  be  found,  though  rarely, 
those  who  can  make  a  small  state  great,  and  yet 
cannot  fiddle ;  as  on  the  other  side,  there  will  be 
found  a  great  many  that  can  fiddle  very  cunningly, 
but  yet  are  so  far  from  being  able  to  make  a  small 
state  great,  as  their  gift  lieth  the  other  way ;  to  bring 
a  great  and  flourishing  estate  to  ruin  and  decay.  And 
certainly  those  degenerate  arts  and  shifts,  whereby 
many  counsellors  and  governors  gain  both  favour 
with  their  masters,  and  estimation  with  the  vulgar, 
deserve  no  better  name  than  fiddling  ;  being  things 
rather  pleasing  for  the  time,  and  graceful  to  them- 
selves only,  than  tending  to  the  weal  and  advance- 
ment of  the  state  which  they  serve.  There  are  also, 
no  doubt,  counsellors  and  governors  which  may  be 
held  sufficient,  negotiis  pares,  able  to  manage  affairs, 
and  to  keep  them  from  precipices  and  manifest  in- 
conveniencics,  which  nevertheless  are  far  from  the 
ability  to  raise  and  amplify  an  estate,  in  power, 
means,  'and  fortune.  But  be  the  workmen  what 
they  may  be,  let  us  speak  of  the  work ;  that  is,  the 
true  greatness  of  kingdoms  and  estates,  and  the  means 
thereof.  An  argument  fit  for  great  and  mighty  princes 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  323 

to  have  in  their  hand  ;  to  the  end  that  neither  by 
over-measuring  their  torces  they  lose  themselves  in 
vain  enterprises  ;  nor  on  the  other  side,  by  under- 
valuing them,  they  descend  to  fearful  and  pusillani- 
mous counsels. 

The  greatness  of  an  estate  in  bulk  and  territory 
doth  fall  under  measure,  and  the  greatness  of  finances 
and  revenue  doth  fall  under  computation.  The  po- 
pulation may  appear  by  musters  ;  and  the  number 
and  greatness  of  cities  and  towns  by  cards  and  maps. 
But  yet  there  is  not  any  thing  amongst  civil  affairs 
more  subject  to  error,  than  the  right  valuation  and 
true  judgment  concerjning  the  power  and  forces  of  an 
estate.  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  compared,  not  to 
any  great  kernel  or  nut,  but  to  a  grain  of  mustard- 
seed  ;  which  is  one  of  the  least  grains,  but  hath  in  it 
a  property  and  spirit  hastily  to  get  up  and  spread. 
So  are  there  states,  great  in  territory,  and  yet  not  apt 
to  enlarge  or  command  ;  and  some  that  have  but  a 
small  dimension  of  stem,  and  yet  apt  to  be  the  founda- 
tions of  great  monarchies. 

Walled  towns,  stored  arsenals  and  armouries, 
goodly  races  of  horse,  chariots  of  war,  elephants, 
ordnance,  artillery,  and  the  like :  all  this  is  but  a 
sheep  in  a  lion's  skin,  except  the  breed  and  disposi- 
tion of  the  people  be  stout  and  warlike.  Nay,  num- 
ber itself,  in  armies,  importeth  not  much,  where  the 
people  is  of  weak  courage ;  for,  as  Virgil  saith,  it 
never  troubles  a  wolf  how  many  the  sheep  be.  The; 
army  of  the  Persians  in  the  plains  of  Arbela,  was  such 
a  vast  sea  of  people,  as  it  did  somewhat  astonish  the 
commanders  in  Alexander's  army ;  who  came  to  him 
therefore,  and  wished  him  to  set  upon  them  by 
night;  but  he  answered,  he  would  not  pilfer  the  vic- 
tory :  and  the  defeat  was  easy.  When  Tigranes  the 
Armenian,  being  encamped  upon  a  hill  with  four 
hundred  thousand  men,  discovered  the  army  of  the 
Romans,  being  not  above  fourteen  thousand  march- 
ing towards  him ;  he  made  himself  merry  with 
it,  and  said,  "  Yonder  men  are  too  many  for  an  eni- 
"  bassage,  and  too  few  for  a  fight.'*  But  before  the 

Y  2 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

sun  set,  he  found  them  enow  to  give  him  the  chase, 
with  infinite  slaughter.  Many  are  the  examples  of  the 
great  odds  between  number  and  courage  :  so  that  a 
man  may  truly  make  a  judgment,  that  the  principal 
point  of  greatness  in  any  state  is  to  have  a  race  of 
military  men.  Neither  is  money  the  sinews  of  war, 
as  it  is  trivially  said,  where  the  sinews  of  men's  arms, 
in  base  and  effeminate  people,  are  failing.  For  Solon 
said  well  to  Croesus,  when  in  ostentation  he  shewed 
him  his  gold,  "  Sir,  if  any  other  come  that  hath  better 
"  iron  than  you,  he  will  be  master  of  all  this  gold.*' 
Therefore  let  any  prince  or  state  think  soberly  of  his 
forces,  except  his  militia  of  natives  be  of  good  and 
valiant  soldiers.  And  let  princes,  on  the  other  side, 
that  have  subjects  of  martial  disposition,  know  their 
own  strength,  unless  they  be  otherwise  wanting  unto 
themselves.  As  for  mercenary  forces,  which  is  the 
help  in  this  case,  all  examples  shew,  that  whatso- 
ever estate  or  prince  doth  rest  upon  them,  he  may 
spread  his  feathers  for  a  time,  but  he  will  mew  them 
soon  after. 

The  blessing  of  Judah  and  Issachar  will  never 
meet ;  that  the  same  people  or  nation  should  be 
both  the  lion's  whelp,  and  the  ass  between  burdens. 
Neither  will  it  be,  that  a  people  over-laid  with  taxes 
should  ever  become  valiant  and  martial.  It  is  true, 
that  taxes  levied  by  consent  of  the  estate,  do  abate 
men's  courage  less;  as  it  hath  been  seen  notably  in 
the  excises  of  the  Low  Countries ;  and,  in  some 
degree,  in  the  subsidies  of  England.  For  you  must 
note,  that  we  speak  now  of  the  heart,  and  not  of  the 
purse.  So  that  although  the  same  tribute  and  tax, 
laid  by  consent,  or  bv  imposing,  be  all  one  to  the 
purse,  yet  it  works  diversly  upon  the  courage.  So 
that  you  may  conclude,  that  no  people  over-charged 
with  tribute  is  n't  tor  empire. 

Let  states  that  aim  at  greatness,  take  heed  how 
their  nobility  and  gentlemen  do  multiply  too  fast ; 
for  that  maketh  the  common  subject  grow  to  be  a 
peasant  and  base  swain,  driven  out  of  heart,  and  in 
effect  but  the  gentleman's  labourer.  Even  as  you 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  325 

may  see  in  coppice  woods;  if  you  leave  your  staddles 
too  thick,  you  shall  never  have  clean  under-wood,  but 
shrubs  and  bushes.  So  in  countries,  if  the  gentlemen 
be  too  many,  the  commons  will  be  base  ;  and  you 
will  bring  it  to  that,  that  not  the  hundred  poll  will 
be  fit  for  an  helmet ;  especially  as  to  the  infantry, 
which  is  the  nerve  of  an  army  :  and  so  there  will  be 
great  population,  and  little  strength.  This  which  I 
speak  of,  hath  been  no  where  better  seen,  than  by 
comparing  of  England  and  France;  whereof  England, 
though  far  less  in  territory  and  population,  hath  been, 
nevertheless  an  overmatch ;  in  regard  the  middle  peo- 
ple of  England  make  good  soldiers,  which  the  peasants 
of  France  do  not.  And  herein  the  device  of  king 
Henry  the  seventh,  whereof  I  have  spoken  largely  in 
the  history  of  his  life,  was  profound  and  admirable  : 
in  making  farms,  and  houses  of  husbandry,  of  a  stand- 
ard ;  that  is,  maintained  with  such  a  proportion  of 
Jand  unto  them,  as  may  breed  a  subject  to  live  in  con- 
venient plenty,  and  no  servile  condition  ;  and  to  keep 
the  plough  in  the  hands  of  the  owners,  and  not  mere 
hirelings.  And  thus  indeed  you  shall  attain  to  Vir- 
gil's character  which  he  gives  to  ancient  Italy: 

Terra  jwtcns  armis  atque  ubcrc  glcbcc. 
Neither  is  that  state,  which,  for  any  thing  I  know,  is 
almost  peculiar  to  England,  and  hardly  to  be  found 
any  where  else,  except  it  be  perhaps  in  Poland,  to  be- 
passed  over;  I  mean  the  state  of  free  servants,  and 
attendants  upon  noblemen  and  gentlemen,  which  are 
no  ways  inferior  unto  the  yeomanry  tor  arms :  and 
therefore  out  of  all  question,  the  splendour  and  mag- 
nificence, and  great  retinues,  and  hospitality  of  no- 
blemen and  gentlemen,  received  into  custom,  doth 
much  conduce  unto  martial  greatness:  whereas, con- 
trariwise, the  close  and  reserved  living  of  noblemen 
and  gentlemen,  causeth  a  penury  of  military  forces. 

By  all  means  it  is  to  be  procured,  that  the  trunk  of 
Nebuchadnezzar's  tree  of  monarchy  be  great  enough 
to  bear  the  branches  and  the  boughs;  that  is, that  the 
natural  subjects  of  the  crown  or  state  bear  a  sufficient 
proportion  to  the  stranger  subjects  that  they  govern. 

326  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

Therefore  all  states,  that  are  liberal  of  naturalization 
towards  strangers  are  fit  for  empire.  For  to  think 
that  an  handful  of  people  can,  with  the  greatest  cou- 
rage and  policy  in  the  world,  embrace  too  large  extent 
of  dominion,  it  may  hold  for  a  time,  but  it  will  fail 
suddenly.  The  Spartans  were  a  nice  people  in§point 
of  naturalization  ;  whereby,  while  they  kept  their 
compass,  they  stood  firm  ;  but  when  they  did  spread, 
and  their  boughs  were  become  too  great  for  their  stem, 
they  became  a  windfal  upon  the  sudden.  Never  any 
state  was,  in  this  point,  so  open  to  receive  strangers 
into  their  body,  as  were  the  Romans ;  therefore  it 
sorted  with  them  accordingly,  for  they  grew  to  the 
greatest  monarchy.  Their  manner  was  to  grant  na- 
turalization, which  they  called  jus  civitatis,  and  to 
grant  it  in  the  highest  degree,  that  is,  not  only  jus  com- 
mercii,  jus  connubri,  jus  her  edit  at  is  ;  but  also,  jus  suf- 
fragiiy  and  jus  honorum  :  and  this  not  to  singular  per-? 
sons  alone,  but  likewise  to  whole  families;  yea,  to 
cities,  and  sometimes  to  nations.  Add  to  this,  their 
qustom  of  plantation  of  colonies,  whereby  the  Roman 
plant  was  removed  into  the  soil  of  other  nations:  and 
putting  both  constitutions  together,  you  will  say,  that 
it  was  not  the  Romans  that  spread  upon  the  world,  but 
it  was  the  world  that  spread  upon  the  Romans:  and 
that  was  the  sure  way  of  greatness.  I  have  marvelled 
sometimes  at  Spain,  how  they  clasp  and  contain  so 
large  dominions,  with  so  few  natural  Spaniards:  but 
sure  the  whole  compass  of  Spain  is  a  very  great  body 
of  a  tree,  far  above  Rome  and  Sparta  at  the  first.  And 
besides,  though  they  have  not  had  that  usage,  to  natu- 
ralize liberally,  yet  they  have  that  which  is  next  to  it; 
that  is,  to  employ,  almost  indifferently,  all  nations  in 
their  militia  ot  ordinary  soldiers;  yea,  and  sometimes 
in  their  highest  commands.  Nay,  it  seemeth  at  this 
instant,  they  are  sensible  of  this  want  of  natives;  as 
by  the  pragmatical  sanction,  now  published,  ap- 

It  is  certain,  that  sedentary  and  \vithin-door  arts, 
and  delicate  manufactures,  that  require  rather  the  fin- 
ger than  the  arm,  have  in  their  nature  a  contrariety  to 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral*  327 

a  military  disposition.  And  generally  all  warlike 
people  are  a  little  idle,  and  love  danger  better  than 
travail:  neither  must  they  be  too  much  broken  of  it, 
if  they  shall  be  preserved  in  vigour.  Therefore  it  was 
great  advantage  in  the  ancient  states  of  Sparta, 
Athens,  Rome,  and  others,  that  they  had  the  use  of 
slaves,  which  commonly  did  rid  those  manufactures. 
But  that  is  abolished,  in  greatest  part,  by  the  Chris- 
tian law.  That  which  cometh  near  to  it,  is,  to  leave 
those  arts  chiefly  to  strangers,  which  for  that  purpose 
are  the  more  easily  to  be  received,  and  to  contain  the 
principal  bulk  of  the  vulgar  natives  within  those  three 
kinds  ;  tillers  of  the  ground,  free-servants,  and  han- 
dicraftsmen of  strong  and  manly  arts,  as  smiths,  ma- 
sons, carpenters,  etc.  not  reckoning  professed  sol- 

But  above  all,  for  empire  and  greatness,  it  import- 
eth  most,  that  a  nation  do  profess  arms  as  their  prin- 
cipal honour,  study,  and  occupation.  For  the  things 
which  we  formerly  have  spoken  of,  are  but  habiiita- 
tions  towards  arms :  and  what  is  habitation  without 
intention  and  act  ?  Romulus  after  his  death,  as 
they  report  or  feign,  sent  a  present  to  the  Romans, 
that  above  ail  they  should  intend  arms,  and  then  they 
should  prove  the  greatest  empire  of  the  world.  The 
fabric  of  the  state  of  Sparta  was  wholly,  though  not 
wisely,  framed  and  composed  to  that  scope  and  end. 
The  Persians  and  Macedonians  had  it  fora  flash.  The 
Gauls,  Germans,  Goths,  Saxons,  Normans,  and  others, 
had  it  for  a  time.  The  Turks  have  it  at  this  day, 
though  in  great  declination.  Of  Christian  Europe 
they  that  have  it,  are  in  effect  only  the  Spaniards. 
But  it  is  so  plain,  that  every  man  profiteth  in  that  he 
most  intendeth,  that  it  needeth  not  to  be  stood  upon. 
It  is  enough  to  point  at  it ;  that  no  nation,  which  doth 
not  directly  profess  arms,  may  look  to  have  greatness 
fall  into  their  mouths.  And  on  the  other  side,  it  is  a 
most  certain  oracle  of  time,  that  those  states  that  con- 
tinue long  in  that  profession,  as  the  Romans  and  Turks 
principally  have  done,  do  wonders  :  and  those  that 
have  professed  arms  but  for  an  age,  have  notwith- 

S2S  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

standing  commonly  attained  that  greatness  in  that  age, 
which  maintained  them  long  after,  when  their  pro- 
fession and  exercise  of  arms  hath  grown  to  decay. 

Incident  to  this  point  is,  for  a  state  to  have  those 
laws  or  customs,  which  may  reach  forth  unto  them 
just  occasions,  as  may  he  pretended,  of  war.  For 
there  is  that  justice  imprinted  in  the  nature  of  men, 
that  they  enter  not  upon  wars,  whereof  so  many  cala- 
mities do  ensue,  but  upon  some,  at  the  least  specious, 
grounds  and  quarrels.  The  Turk  hath  at  hand,  for 
cause  of  war,  the  propagation  of  his  law  or  sect;  a 
quarrel  that  he  may  always  command.  The  Romans 
though  they  esteemed  the  extending  the  limits  of  their 
empire  to  be  great  honour  to  their  generals,  when  it 
was  done ;  yet  they  never  rested  upon  that  alone  to 
begin  a  war.  First  therefore,  let  nations  that  pre- 
tend to  greatness  have  this,  that  they  be  sensible  of 
wrongs,  either  upon  borderers,  merchants,  or  politic 
ministers ;  and  that  they  sit  not  too  long  upon  a  pro- 
vocation. Secondly,  let  them  be  prest,  and  ready  to 
give  aids  and  succours  to  their  confederates  ;  as  it  ever 
was  with  the  Romans :  insomuch,  as  if  the  confede- 
rate had  leagues  defensive  with  divers  other  states, 
and  upon  invasion  offered,  did  implore  their  aids  se- 
verally, yet  the  Romans  would  ever  be  the  foremost, 
and  leave  it  to  none  other  to  have  the  honour.  As  for 
the  wars,  which  were  anciently  made  on  the  behalf  of 
a  kind  of  party,  or  tacit  conformity  of  estate,  I  do 
not  see  how  they  may  be  well  justified;  as  when  the 
Romans  made  a  war  for  the  liberty  of  Gra:cia ;  or 
when  the  Lacedemonians  and  Athenians  made  wars, 
to  set  up  or  pull  down  democracies  and  oligarchies; 
or  when  wars  were  made  by  foreigners,  under  the 
pretence  of  justice  or  protection,  to  deliver  the  sub- 
jects of  others  from  tyranny  and  oppression  ;  and  the 
Jike.  Let  it  suffice,  that  no  estate  expect  to  be  great, 
that  is  not  awake  upon  any  just  occasion  of  arming. 

No  body  can  be  healthful  without  exercise,  neither 
natural  body  nor  politic:  and  certainly,  to  a  kingdom 
or  estate,  a  just  and  honourable  war  is  the  true  exer- 
cise. A  civil  war,  indeed,  is  like  the  heat  of  a  fever  j 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  32$ 

but  a  foreign  war  is  like  the  heat  of  exercise,  and 
serveth  to  keep  the  body  in  health.  For  in  a  sloth- 
ful peace,  both  courages  will  effeminate,  and  man- 
ners corrupt.  But  howsoever  it  be  for  happiness, 
without  all  question,  for  greatness  it  maketh,  to  be 
still,  for  the  most  part,  in  arms :  and  the  strength  of 
a  veteran  army,  though  it  be  a  chargeable  business, 
always  on  foot,  is  that  which  commonly  giveth  the 
law,  or  at  least  the  reputation  amongst  all  neighbour 
states,  as  may  well  be  seen  in  Spain;  which  hath  had, 
in  one  part  or  other,  a  veteran  army,  almost  continu- 
ally, now  by  the  space  of  six-score  years. 

To  be  master  of  the  sea,  is  an  abridgment  of  a  mo- 
narchy. Cicero  writing  to  Atticus,  of  Pompey  his 
preparation  against  Caesar,  saith,  Consilium  Pompeii 
plane  Tlicmistodeum  est ;  putat  enim,  qid  mari  potitur, 
eum  rerinn  potiri.  And  without  doubt  Pompey  had 
tired  out  Cassar,  if  upon  vain  confidence  he  had  not 
left  that  way.  We  see  the  great  effects  of  battles  by 
sea.  The  battle  of  Actium  decided  the  empire  of  the 
world.  The  battle  of  Lepanto  arrested  the  greatness 
of  the  Turk.  There  be  many  examples,  where  sea 
fights  have  been  final  to  the  war;  but  this  is,  when 
princes  or  states  have  set  up  their  rest  upon  the  baf^ 
ties.  But  thus  much  is  certain  ;  that  he  that  com- 
mands the  sea,  is  at  great  liberty,  and  may  take  as 
much  and  as  little  of  the  war  as  he  will.  Whereas  those 
that  be  strongest  by  land  are  many  times,  neverthe- 
less, in  great  straits.  Surely,  at  this  day,  with  us  of 
Europe,  the  vantage  of  strength  at  sea,  which  is  one 
of  the  principal  dowries  of  this  kingdom  of  Great  Bri- 
tain, is  great :  both  because  most  of  the  kingdoms  of 
Europe  are  not  merely  inland,  but  girt  with  the  sea, 
most  part  of  their  compass ;  and  because  the  wealth  of 
both  Indies  seems  in  great  part  but  an  accessary  to 
the  command  of  the  seas. 

The  wars  of  latter  ages  seem  to  be  made  in  the  dark, 
in  respect  of  the  glory  and  honour  which  reflected 
upon  men  from  the  wars  in  ancient  time.  There  be 
now,  for  martial  encouragement,  some  degrees  and 
orders  of  chivalry,  which  nevertheless  are  conferred 

330  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

promiscuously  upon  soldiers  and  no  soldiers;  and  some 
remembrance  perhaps  upon  the  escutcheon,  and  some 
hospitals  for  maimed  soldiers,  and  such  like  things. 
But  in  ancient  times,  the  trophies  erected  upon  the 
place  of  the  victory  ;  the  funeral  laudatives  and  mo- 
numents for  those  that  died  in  the  wars  ;  the  crowns 
and  garlands  personal ;  the  stile  of  emperor,  which 
the  great  kings  of  the  world  after  borrowed;  the  tri- 
umphs of  the  generals  upon  their  return ;  the  great 
donatives  and  largesses  upon  the  disbanding  of  the 
armies,  were  things  able  to  inflame  all  mens  cou- 
rages, but  above  all,  that  of  the  triumph,  among  the 
Romans,  was  not  pageants  or  gaudery,  but  one  of  the 
wisest  and  noblest  institutions  that  ever  was.  For  it 
contained  three  things ;  honour  to  the  general ;  riches 
to  the  treasury,  out  of  the  spoils;  and  donatives  to  the 
army.  But  that  honour,  perhaps,  were  not  fit  for 
monarchies;  except  it  be  in  the  person  of  the  mo- 
narch himself,  or  his  sons ;  as  it  came  to  pass  in  the 
times  of  the  Roman  emperors,  who  did  appropriate  the 
actual  triumphs  to  themselves  and  their  sons,  for  such 
wars  as  they  did  atchieve  in  person  ;  and  left  only, 
for  wars  atchieved  by  subjects,  some  triumphal  gar- 
ments and  ensigns  to  the  general. 

To  conclude  :  no  man  can,  by  care  taking,  as  the 
Scripture  saith,  add  a  cubit  to  his  stature,  in  this  little 
model  of  a  man's  body :  but  in  the  great  frame  of 
kingdoms  and  common-wealths,  it  is  in  the  power  of 
princes  or  estates,  to  add  amplitude  and  greatness  to 
their  kingdoms.  For  by  introducing  such  ordinances, 
constitutions  and  customs,  as  we  have  now  touched, 
they  may  sow  greatness  to  their  posterity  and  succes- 
sion. But  these  things  are  commonly  not  observed, 
but  left  to  take  their  chance. 

XXX.     Of  REGIMEN  of  HEALTH. 

THERE  is  a  wisdom  in  this  beyond  the  rules  of 
physic  :  a  man's  own  observation,  what  he  finds  good 
of,  and  what  he  finds  hurt  of,  is  the  best  physic  to 
preserve  health.  But  it  is  a  safer  conclusion  to  say 
this,  "  This  agrecth  not  well  with  me,  therefore  .1 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  331 

"  will  not  continue  it ;"  than  this,  "  I  find  no  offence 
"  of  this,  therefore  I  may  use  it."  For  strength  of 
nature  in  youth  passeth  over  many  excesses,  which 
are  owing  a  man  till  his  age.  Discern  of  the  coming 
on  of  years,  and  thing  not  to  do  the  same  things  still ; 
for  age  will  not  be  defied.  Beware  of  sud Jen  change 
in  any  great  point  of  diet,  and  if  necessity  enforce  it, 
fit  the  rest  to  it.  Fur  it  is  a  secret  both  in  nature  and 
state,  that  it  is  safer  to  change  many  things  than 
one.  Examine  thy  customs  of  diet,  sleep,  exercise, 
apparel,  and  the  like  ;  and  try  in  any  thing  thou  shalt 
judge  hurtful,  to  discontinue  it  by  little  and  little  ; 
but  so,  as  if  thou  dost  find  any  inconvenience  by  the 
change,  thou  come  back  to  it  again;  for  it  is  hard  to 
distinguish  that  which  is  generally  held  good  and 
wholsome,  from  that  which  is  good  particularly,  and 
fit  for  thine  own  body.  To  be  free-minded  and  cheer- 
fully disposed,  at  hours  of  meat,  and  of  sleep,  and  of 
exercise,  is  one  of  the  best  precepts  of  long  lasting. 
As  for  the  passions  and  studies  of  the  mind,  avoid 
envy,  anxious  fears,  anger,  fretting  inwards,  subtle 
and  knotty  inquisitions,  joys  and  exhilirations  in  ex- 
cess, sadness  not  communicated.  Entertain  hopes, 
mirth  rather  than  joy,  variety  of  delights  rather  than 
surfeit  of  them;  wonder  and  admiration,  and  therefore 
novelties  ;  studies  that  fill  the  mind  with  splendid  and 
illustrious  objects,  as  histories,  fables,  and  contempla- 
tions of  nature.  If  you  fly  physic  in  health  altoge- 
ther, it  will  be  too  strange  for  your  body  when  you 
shall  need  it.  If  you  make  it  too  familiar,  it  will  work 
no  extraordinary  effect  when  sickness  cometh.  I 
commend  rather  some  diet  for  certain  seasons,  than 
frequent  use  of  physic,  except  it  be  grown  into  a  cus- 
tom. For  those  diets  alter  the  body  more,  and  trou- 
ble it  less.  Despise  no  new  accident  in  your  body, 
butr  ask  opinion  of  it.  In  sickness  respect  health 
principally:  and  in  health,  action.  For  those  that 
put  their  bodies  to  endure  in  health,  may  in  most  sick- 
nesses, which  are  not  very  sharp,  be  cured  only  with 
diet  and  tendering.  Celsus  could  never  have  spoken 
it  as  a  physician,  had  he  not  been  a  wise  man  withal ; 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

when  he  givcth  it  for  one  of  the  great  precepts  of 
health  and  lasting,  that  a  man  do  vary  and  inter- 
change contraries ;  but  with  an  inclination  to  the 
more  benign  extreme.  Use  fasting  and  full  eating, 
but  rather  full  eating;  watching  and  sleep,  but  ra- 
ther sleep  ;  sitting  and  exercise,  but  rather  exercise, 
and  the  like.  So  shall  nature  be  cherished,  and  yet 
taught  masteries.  Physicians  are  some  of  them  so 
pleasing  and  conformable  to  the  humour  of  the  patient, 
as  they  press  not  the  true  cure  of  the  disease  ;  and 
some  other  are  so  regular  in  proceeding  according  to 
art  for  the  disease,  as  they  respect  not  sufficiently  the 
condition  of  the  patient.  Take  one  of  a  middle  tem- 
per ;  or  if  it  may  not  be  found  in  one  man,  combine 
two  of  either  sort;  and  forget  not  to  call  as  well  the 
best  acquainted  with  your  body,  as  the  best  reputed  of 
for  his  faculty. 


SUSPICIONS  amongst  thoughts,  are  like  bats 
amongst  birds,  they  ever  fly  by  twilight.  Certainly 
they  are  to  be  repressed,  or  at  the  least  well  guarded  : 
for  they  cloud  the  mind,  they  lose  friends,  and  they 
check  with  business,  whereby  business  cannot  go  on 
currently  and  constantly.  They  dispose  kings  to  tyran- 
ny, husbands  to  jealousy,  wise  men  to  irresolution  and 
melancholy.  They  are  defects  not  in  the  heart,  but 
In  the  brain  ;  for  they  take  place  in  the  stoutest  na- 
tures; as  in  the  example  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  of 
England;  there  was  not  a  more  suspicious  man,  nor  a 
more  stout.  And  in  such  a  composition  they  do 
small  hurt.  For  commonly  they  are  not  admitted  but 
with  examination,  whether  they  be  likely  or  no  ?  But 
in  fearful  natures  they  gain  ground  too  fast.  There 
is  nothing  makes  a  man  suspect  much,  more  than  to 
know  little :  and  therefore  men  should  remedy  suspi- 
cion, by  procuring  to  know  more,  and  not  to  keep 
their  suspicions  in  smother.  What  would  men  have? 
Do  they  think  those  they  employ  and  deal  with  are 
saints?  Do  they  not  think  they  will  have  their  own 
ends,  and  be  truer  to  themselves  than  to  them  ?  There- 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  333 

fore  there  is  no  better  way  to  moderate  suspicions, 
than  to  account  upon  such  suspicions  as  true,  and  yet 
to  bridle  them  as  false:  for  so  far  a  man  ought  to 
make  use  of  suspicions,  as  to  provide,  as  if  that  should 
be  true  that  he  suspects,  yet  it  may  do  him  no  hurt. 
Suspicions  that  the  mind  of  itself  gathers  are  but  buz- 
zes; but  suspicions  that  are  artificially  nourished,  and 
put  into  mens  heads  by  the  tales  and  whisperings  of 
others,  have  stings.  Certainly  the  best  mean  to  clear 
the  way  in  this  same  wood  of  suspicions,  is  frankly  to 
communicate  them  with  the  party  that  he  suspects  ; 
for  thereby  he  shall  be  sure  to  know  more  of  the  truth 
of  them  than  he  did  before ;  and  withal  shall  make 
that  party  more  circumspect  not  to  give  farther  cause 
of  suspicion.  But  this  should  not  be  done  to  men  of 
base  natures :  for  they,  if  they  find  themselves  once 
suspected,  will  never  be  true.  The  Italian  says,  Sos~ 
petto  licentia  fede ;  as  if  suspicion  did  give  a  passport 
to  faith  ;  but  it  ought  rather  to  kindle  it  to  discharge 


SOME  in  their  discourse  desire  rather  commenda- 
tion of  wit,  in  being  able  to  hold  all  arguments,  than 
of  judgment  in  discerning  what  is  true;  as  if  it  were 
a  praise  to  know  what  might  be  said,  and  not  what 
should  be  thought.  Some  have  certain  common- 
places and  themes,  wherein  they  are  good,  and  want 
variety :  which  kind  of  poverty  is  for  the  most  part 
tedious,  and,  when  it  is  once  perceived,  ridiculous. 
The  honourablest  part  of  talk  is  to  give  the  occasion  ; 
and  again,  to  moderate,  and  pass  to  somewhat  else; 
for  then  a  man  leads  the  dance.  It  is  good  in  dis- 
course and  speech  of  conversation  to  varv,  and  inter- 
mingle speech  of  the  present  occasion  with  argu- 
ments ;  tales  with  reasons ;  asking  of  questions  with 
tellingof  opinions;  and  jest  with  earnest  :  for  it  is  a 
dull  thing  to  tire,  and,  as  we  say  now,  to  jade  any 
thing  too  far.  As  for  jest,  there  be  certain  things 
which  ought  to  be  privileged  from  it;  namely,  reli- 
gion, matters  of  state,  great  persons,  any  man's  present 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

business  of  importance,  and  any  case  that  deserveth 
pity.  Yet  there  be  some  that  think  their  wits  have 
been  asleep,  except  they  dart  out  somewhat  that  is 
piquant,  and  to  the  quick  :  that  is  a  vein  which  should 
be  bridled; 

Parce  puer  stimidisy  et  for  tins  liter  e  lor  is. 
And  generally  men  ought  to  find  the  difference  be- 
tween saltness  and  bitterness.  Certainly  he  that  hath 
a  satirical  vein,  as  he  maketh  others  afraid  of  his  wit, 
so  he  had  need  be  afraid  of  others  memory.  He  that 
questioneth  much  shall  learn  much,  and  content 
much  ;  but  especially  if  he  apply  his  questions  to  the 
skill  of  the  persons  whom  he  asketh:  for  he  shall  give 
them  occasion  to  please  themselves  in  speaking,  and 
himself  shall  continually  gather  knowledge.  "But  let 
his  questions  not  be  troublesome,  for  that  is  fit  for  a 
poser.  And  let  him  be  sure  to  leave  other  men  their 
turns  to  speak.  Nay,  if  there  be  any  that  would 
reign,  and  take  up  all  the  time,  let  him  find  means  to 
take  them  off,  and  to  bring  others  on;  as  musicians 
use  to  do  with  those  that  dance  too  long  galliards.  If 
you  dissemble  sometimes  your  knowledge  of  that  you 
are  thought  to  know,  you  shall  be  thought  another 
time  to  know  what  you  know  not.  Speech  of  a  man's 
self  ought  to  be  seldom,  and  well  chosen.  I  knew 
one  was  wont  to  say  in  scorn,  "  He  must  needs 
"  be  a  wise  man,  he  speaks  so  much  of  himself:"  and 
there  is  but  one  case  wherein  a  man  may  commend 
himself  with  good  grace,  and  that  is  in  commending 
virtue  in  another ;  especially  if  it  be  such  a  virtue 
whereunto  himself  pretendeth.  Speech  of  touch  to- 
wards others  should  be  sparingly  used  :  for  discourse 
ought  to  be  as  a  field,  without  coming  home  to  any 
man.  I  knew  two  noblemen  of  the  west  part  of  Eng- 
land, whereof  the  one  was  given  to  scoff,  but  kept 
ever  royal  cheer  in  his  house ;  the  other  would 
ask  of  those  that  had  been  at  the  other's  table, 
"  Tell  truly,  was  there  never  a  flout  or  dry  blow 
"  given?"  To  which  the  guest  would  answer,  Such 
and  such  a  thing  passed.  Tne  lord  would  say,  l(  I 
"  thought  he  would  mar  a  good  dinner.'1  Discretion 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  33$ 

of  speech  is  more  than  eloquence ;  and  to  speak 
agreeably  to  him  with  whom  we  deal,  is  more  than 
to  speak  in  good  words,  or  in  good  order.  A  good 
continued  speech,  without  a  good  speech  of  interlo- 
cution, shews  slowness  :  and  a  good  reply,  or  second 
speech,  without  a  good  settled  speech,  sheweth  shal- 
lowness  and  weakness.  As  we  see  in  beasts,  that 
those  that  are  weakest  in  the  course,  are  yet  nimblest 
in  the  turn :  as  it  is  betwixt  the  greyhound  and  the 
hare.  To  use  too  many  circumstances  ere  one  come 
to  the  matter,  is  wearisome  3  to  use  none  at  all,  is 


PLANTATIONS  are  amongst  ancient,  primitive, 
and  heroical  works.  When  the  world  was  young,  it 
begat  more  children  ;  but  now  it  is  old,  it  begets 
fewer:  for  I  may  justly  account  new  plantations  to 
be  the  children  of  former  kingdoms.  I  like  a  planta- 
tion in  a  pure  soil ;  that  is,  where  people  are  not  dis- 
planted  to  the  end  to  plant  in  others.  For  else  it  is 
rather  an  extirpation,  than  a  plantation.  Planting 
of  countries  is  like  planting  of  woods;  for  you  must 
make  account  to  lose  almost  twenty  years  profit,  and 
expect  your  recompence  in  the  end.  For  the  princi- 
pal thing  that  hath  been  the  destruction  of  most  plan- 
tations, hath  been  the  base  and  hasty  drawing  of  pro- 
fit in  the  first  years.  It  is  true,  speedy  profit  is  not  to 
be  neglected,  as  far  as  may  stand  with  the  good  of 
the  plantation,  but  no  farther.  It  is  a  shameful  and 
unblessed  thing,  to  take  the  scum  of  people,  and 
wicked  condemned  men,  to  be  the  people  with  whom 
you  plant ;  and  not  only  so,  but  it  spoileth  the  planta- 
tion ;  for  they  will  ever  live  like  rogues,  and  not  fall 
to  work,  but  be  lazy,  and  do  mischief,  and  spend  vic- 
tuals, and  be  quickly  weary,  and  then  certify  over  to 
their  country  to  the  discredit  of  the  plantation.  The 
people  wherewith  you  plant  ought  to  be  gardeners, 
ploughmen,  labourers,  smiths,  carpenters,  joiners, 
fishermen,  fowlers,  with  some  few  apothecaries,  sur- 
geons, cooks,  and  bakers,  In  a  country  of  planta* 

336  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

Iron,  first  look  about  what  kind  of  victual  the  coun- 
try yields  of  itself  to  hand  ;  as  chestnuts,  walnuts, 
pine-apples,  olives,  dates,  plumbs,  cherries,  wild  ho- 
ney, and  the  like,  and  make  use  of  them.  Then 
consider  what  victual  or  esculent  things  there  are, 
which  grow  speedily  and  within  the  year ;  as  parsnips, 
carrots,  turnips,  onions,  radishes,  artichokes  of 
Jerusalem,  maiz,  and  the  like.  For  wheat,  barley, 
and  oats,  they  ask  too  much  labour :  but  with  peas 
and  beans  you  may  begin;  both  because  they  ask  less 
labour,  and  because  they  serve  for  meat,  as  well  as 
for  bread.  And  of  rice  likewise  cometh  a  great  in- 
crease, and  it  is  a  kind  of  meat.  Above  all,  there 
ought  to  be  brought  store  of  biscuit,  oatmeal,  flour, 
meal,  and  the  like,  in  the  beginning,  till  bread  may  be 
had.  For  beasts  or  birds,  take  chiefly  such  as  are 
least  subject  to  diseases,  and  multiply  fastest :  as 
swine,  goats,  cocks,  hens,  turkeys,  geese,  house- 
doves,  and  the  like.  The  victual  in  plantations 
ought  to  be  expended  almost  as  in  a  besieged  town  ; 
that  is  with  certain  allowance.  And  let  the  main 
part  of  the  ground  employed  to  gardens  or  corn  be 
to  a  common  stock  ;  and  to  be  laid  in,  and  stored  up, 
and  then  delivered  out  in  proportion ;  besides  some 
spots  of  ground  that  any  particular  person  will  ma- 
nure for  his  own  private.  Consider  likewise  what 
commodities  the  soil  where  the  plantation  is  doth  na- 
turally yield,  that  they  may  some  way  help  to  defray 
the  charge  of  the  plantation  :  so  it  be  not,  as  was  said, 
to  the  untimely  prejudice  of  the  main  business;  as  it 
hath  fared  with  tobacco,  in  Virginia.  Wood  com- 
monly aboundeth  but  too  much:  and  therefore  tim- 
ber is  fit  to  be  one.  If  there  be  iron  ore,  and 
streams  whereupon  to  set  the  mills ;  iron  is  a  brave 
commodity  where  wood  aboundeth.  Making  of 
bay-salt,  if  the  climate  be  proper  for  it,  should  be  put 
in  experience.  Growing-silk  likewise,  if  any  be,  is  a 
likely  commodity.  Pitch  and  tar,  where  store  of  firs 
and  pines  are,  will  not  fail.  So  drugs  and  sweet 
woods,  where  they  are,  cannot  but  yield  great  profit. 
Soap-ashes,  likewise,  and  other  things  that  may  be 

Essays,  -Civil  and  Moral.  S 37 

thought  of.  But  moil  not  too  much  under  ground  $ 
for  the  hope  of  mines  is  very  uncertain,  and  useth  to 
make  the  planters  lazy  in  other  things.  For  govern- 
ment, let  it  be  in  the  hands  of  one  assisted  with  some 
counsel :  and  let  them  have  commission  to  exercise 
martial  laws  with  some  limitation.  And  above  all, 
let  men  make  that  profit  of  being  in  the  wilderness,  as 
they  have  God  always,  and  his  service,  before  their 
eyes.  Let  not  the  government  of  the  plantation  de- 
pend upon  too  many  counsellors  and  undertakers  in 
the  country  that  planteth,  but  upon  a  temperate  num- 
ber; and  let  those  be  rather  noblemen  and  gentle- 
men, than  merchants;  for  they  look  ever  to  the  pre- 
sent gain.  Let  there  be  freedoms  from  custom,  till 
the  plantation  be  of  strength :  and  not  only  freedom 
from  custom,  but  freedom  to  carry  their  commodities 
where  they  may  make  their  best  of  them,  except  there 
be  some  special  cause  of  caution.  Cram  not  in  peo- 
ple, by  sending  too  fast,  company  after  company  ;  but 
rather  hearken  how  they  waste,  and  send  supplies  pro- 
portionably  ;  but  so  as  the  number  may  live  well  in 
the  plantation,  and  not  by  surcharge  be  in  penury. 
It  hath  been  a  great  endangering  to  the  health  of  some 
plantations,  that  they  have  built  along  the  sea  and 
rivers,  in  marish  and  unwholesome  grounds.  Therefore 
though  you  begin  there  to  avoid  carriage,  and  other 
like  discommodities,  yet  build  still  rather  upwards 
from  the  streams,  than  along.  It  concerneth  likewise 
the  health  of  the  plantation,  that  they  have  good  store 
of  salt  with  .them,  that  they  may  use  it  in  their  victuals 
when  it  shall  be  necessary.  If  you  plant  where  savages 
are,  do  not  only  entertain  them  with  trifles  and  gingles; 
but  use  them  justly  and  graciously,  with  sufficient 
guard  nevertheless:  and  do  not  win  their  favour  by 
helping  them  to  invade  their  enemies  ;  but  for  their 
defence  it  is  not  amiss.  And  send  oft  of  them  over 
to  the  country  that  plants,  that  they  may  see  a  better 
condition  than  their  own,  and  commend  it  when  they 
return.  When  the  plantation  grows  to  strength,  then 
it  is  time  to  plant  with  women,  as  well  as  with  men  ; 
that  the  plantation  may  spread  into  generations ;  and 

VOL,  II.  Z 

33S  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral 

not  be  £ver  pieced  from  without.  It  is  the  sinfullest 
thing  in  the  world  to  forsake  or  destitute  a  planta- 
*  tion  once  in  forwardness  :  for  besides  the  dishonour,  it 
is  the  guiltiness  of  blood  of  many  commiserable 


I  CANNOT  call  riches  better  than  the  baggage 
of  virtue.     The  Roman  word  is  better,  impedimenta. 
For  as  the  baggage  is  to  an  army,  so  are  riches  to  vir- 
tue.    It  cannot  be  spared,  nor  left  behind,  but  it  hin- 
dereth  the  march  ^  yea,  and   the  care  of  it  sometimes 
loseth  or  disturbeth  the  victory :  of  great  riches  there 
is  no  real  use,  except  it  be   in  the  distribution  ;  the 
rest  is  but  conceit.     So  saith  Solomon  ;  Where  muck 
is,  there  are  many  to  consume  it ;  and  what  hath  the 
owner,  but  the  sight  of  it  witli  his  eyes  ?     The  personal 
fruition  in  any  man,  cannot  reach  to  feel  great  riches  : 
there  is   a  custody  of  them ;  or  a  power  of  dole  and 
donative  of  them ;  or  a  fame  of  them ;  but  no  solid 
use  to  the  owner.     Do  you  not  see  what  feigned  prices 
are  set  upon   little  stones  and  rarities?     And  what 
works  of  ostentation  are  undertaken,  because  there 
might  seem  to  be  some  use  of  great  riches  ?  But  then 
you  will  say,  they  may  be  of  use,  to  buy  men  out  of 
dangers  or   troubles.     As  Solomon  saith,  Riches  are 
as  a  strong  hold  in  the  imagination  of  the  rich  man.  But 
this  is  excellently  expressed,  that  it  is  in  imagination, 
and  not  always   in   fact.     For  certainly  great  riches 
have  sold  more  men  than  they  have  bought  out.  Seek 
not  proud  riches,  but  such  as  thou  mayest  get  justly, 
use  soberly,  distribute  cheerfully,  and  leave  content- 
edly.    Yet  have  no  abstract  nor  friarly  contempt  of 
them:  but  distinguish, -as  Cicero  saith  well  of  Rabi- 
rius  Posthumus;  in  studio  ret  ampli/icandaj  apparebat, 
non  avarititf  Jmcclam,  sed  instnunentum  bonitali  quwi. 
Hearken  also  to  Solomon,  and  beware  of  hasty  gather- 
ing of  riches:  Qui  fcst inat  ad  drcitias,  non  erit  insons. 
The  poets  feign,  that  when  Plutus,  which  is  riches,  is 
sent  from  Jupiter,  he  limps,   and  goes  slowly;  but 
when  he  is  sent  from  Vluto,  he  runs,  and  is  swift  of 

Essays,  Civil  and  MoraL  339. 

foot :  meaning  that  riches  gotten  by  good  means  and 
iust  labour,  pace  slowly ;  but  when  they  come  by  the 
death  of  others,  as  by  the  course  of  inheritance,  testa- 
ments, and  the  like,  they  come  tumbling  upon  a  man* 
i>,ii  it  might  be  applied  likewise  to  Pluto,  taking  him 
for  the  devil.  For  when  riches  come  trom  the  devil, 
as  by  fraud  and  oppression,  and  unjust  means,  they 
come  upon  speed.  The  ways  to  enrich  are  many,  and 
most  of  them  foul.  Parsimony  is  one  ot  the  best,  and 
yet  is  not  innocent:  for  it  withholdeth  men  from 
works  of  liberality  and  charity.  The  improvement  of 
the  ground  is  the  most  natural  obtaining  of  riches  ;  for 
it  is  our  great  mother's  blessing,  the  earth's  ;  but  it  is 
slow.  And  yet,  where  men  of  great  wealth  do  stoop 
to  husbandry,  it  multiplieth  riches  exceedingly.  I 
knew  a  nobleman  in  England  that  had  the  greatest 
audits  of  any  man  fn  my  time;  a  great  grazier,  a  great 
sheep-master,  a  great  timber-man,  a  great  collier,  a 
great  corn-master,  a  great  lead-man  ;  and  so  of  iron, 
and  a  number  of  the  like  points  of  husbandry :  so  as 
the  earth  seemed  a  sea  to  him,  in  respect  of  the  per- 
petual importation.  It  was  truly  observed  by  one, 
that  himself  came  very  hardly  to  a  little  riches,  and 
very  easily  to  great  riches.  For  when  a  man's  stock 
is  come  to  that,  that  he  can  expect  the  prime  of  mar- 
kets, and  overcome  those  bargains,  which  for  their 
greatness  are  few  mens  money,  and  be  partner  in  the 
industries  ot  younger  men,  he  cannot  but  increase 
mainly.  The  gains  of  ordinary  trades  and  vocations 
are  honest,  and  furthered  by  two  things,  chiefly,  by 
diligence,  and  by  a  good  name  for  good  and  fair  deal- 
ing. But  the  gains  of  bargains  are  of  a  more  doubt- 
ful nature,  when  men  should  wait  upon  others  neces- 
sity ;  broke  by  servants  and  instruments  to  draw  them 
on;  put  off  others  cunningly  that  would  be  better 
chapmen,  and  the  like  practices,  which  are  crafty  and 
naught.  As  for  the  chopping  of  bargains,  when  a 
man  buys,  not  to  hold,  but  to  sell  over  again,  that 
commonly  grindeth  double,  both  upon  the  seller,  and 
upon  the  buyer.  Sharings  do  greatly  enrich,  if  the 
hands  be  well  chosen  that  are  trusted.  Usury  is  the 

2  2 

S40  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

certainest  means  of  gain,  though  one  of  the  worst,  as 
that  whereby  a  man  doth  eat  his  bread  in  sudore  vultus 
alieni;  and  besides,  doth  plough  upon  Sundays.  But 
yet  certain  though  it  be,  it  hath  flaws;  for  that  the 
scriveners  and  brokers  do  value  unsound  men,  to 
serve  their  own  turn.  The  fortune  in  being  the  first 
in  an  invention,  or  in  a  privilege,  doth  cause  some- 
times a  wonderful  overgrowth  in  riches;  as  it  was 
with  the  first  sugar-man  in  the  Canaries.  Therefore, 
if  a  man  can  play  the  true  logician,  to  have  as  well 
judgment  as  invention,  he  may  do  great  matters,  espe- 
cially if  the  times  be  fit.  He  that  resteth  upon  gains 
certain,  shall  hardly  grow  to  great  riches.  And  he 
that  puts  all  upon  adventures,  doth  oftentimes  break 
and  come  to  poverty :  it  is  good  therefore  to  guard 
adventures  with  certainties  that  may  uphold  losses. 
Monopolies  and  co-emption  of  wares  or  resale,  where 
they  are  not  restrained,  are  great  means  to  enrich ; 
especially  if  the  party  have  intelligence  what  things 
are  like  to  come  into  request,  and  so  store  himself  be- 
forehand. Riches  gotten  by  service,  though  it  be  of 
the  best  rise,  yet  when  they  are  gotten  by  flattery, 
feeding  humours,  and  other  servile  conditions,  they 
may  be  placed  amongst  the  worst.  As  for  fishing  for 
testaments  and  executorships,  as  Tacitus  saith  of  Se- 
neca, Testamenta  et  orbos  tanquam  indagine  capt,  it  is 
yet  worse  ;  by  how  much  men  submit  themselves  to 
meaner  persons,  than  in  service.  Believe  not  much 
them  that  seem  to  despise  riches  ;  for  they  despise 
them  that  despair  of  them:  and  none  worse  when 
they  come  to  them.  Be  not  penny-wise ;  riches 
have  wings,  and  sometimes  they  fly  away  of  them- 
selves, sometimes  they  must  be  set  flying  to  bring  in 
more.  Men  leave  their  riches  either  to  their  kindred, 
or  to  the  public  :  and  moderate  portions  prosper  best 
in  both.  A  great  estate  left  to  an  heir,  is  as  a  lure  to 
all  the  birds  of  prey  round  about,  to  seize  on  him,  if  he 
be  not  the  better  established  in  years  and  judgment. 
Likewise  glorious  gifts  and  foundations,  are  like  sacri- 
fices without  salt;  and  but  the  painted  sepulchres  of 
alms,  which  soon  will  -putriry  and  corrupt  inwardly. 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  341 

Therefore  measure  not  thine  advancements  by  quan- 
tity, but  frame  them  by  measure;  and  defer  not  cha- 
rities till  death :  for  certainly,  if  a  man  weigh  it 
rightly,  he  that  doth  so,  is  rather  liberal  of  another 
man's  than  of  his  own. 


I  MEAN  not  to  speak  of  divine  prophecies,  nor  of 
heathen  oracles,  nor  of  natural  predictions ;  but  only 
of  prophecies  that  have  been  or  certain  memory,  and 
from  hidden  causes.  Saith  the  Pythonissa  to  Saul ; 
To-morrow  thon  and  thy  son  shall  be  with  me.  Virgil 
hath  these  verses  from  Homer  : 

At  domus  JEnea  cunctis  dominabitur  oris, 
Et  nati  natorum,  et  qui  nascentur  ab  illis. 

^Eneid.  Hi.  97. 

A  prophecy,  as  it  seems,  of  the  Roman  empire.  Se- 
neca the  Tragedian  hath  these  verses : 
Venient  annis 

Secula  seris,  quibus  oceanus 

Vincula  rerum  laxet,  et  ingens 

Pateat  tellus,  Tiphysque  novos 

Detegat  orbes  ;  nee  sit  terris 

Ultima  Thule : 

A  prophecy  of  the  discovery  of  America.  The 
daughter  of  Polycrates  dreamed,  that  Jupiter  bathed 
her  father,  and  Apollo  anointed  him  :  and  it  came  to 
pass  that  he  was  crucified  in  an  open  place,  where  the 
sun  made  his  body  run  with  sweat,  and  the  rain 
washed  it.  Philip  of  Macedon  dreamed  he  sealed 
up  his  wife 's  belly ;  whereby  he  did  expound  it,  that 
his  wife  should  be  barren ;  but  Aristander  the  sooth- 
sayer told  him,  his  wife  was  with  child  :  because  men 
do  not  use  to  seal  vessels  that  are  empty.  A  phan- 
tasm that  appeared  to  M.  Brutus,  in  his  tent,  said  to 
him,  Philippis  iterum  me  videbis.  Tiberius  said  to 
Galba,  Tu  quoque^  Galba,  degiistabis  imperium.  In 
Vespasian's  time  there  went  a  prophecy  in  the  east, 
that  those  that  should  come  forth  of  Judaea,  should 
reign  over  the  world  -3  which  though  it  may  be  was 
meant  of  our  Saviour,  yet  Tacitus  expounds  it  of 

$42  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

Vespasian.  Domitian  dreamed  the  night  before  lie 
was  slain,  that  a  golden  head  was  growing  out  of  the 
nape  of  his  neck  :  and  indeed  the  succession  that 
followed  him,  for  many  years,  made  golden  times, 
Henry  the  sixth  of  England  said  of  Henry  the  seventh, 
when  he  was  a  lad,  and  gave  him  water;  "This  is  the 
"  lad  that  shall  enjoy  the  crown  for  which  we 
"  strive."  When  I  was  in  France,  I  heard  from  one 
Dr.  Pena,  that  the  queen-mother,  who  was  given  to 
curious  arts,  caused  the  king  her  husband's  nativity 
to  be  calculated  under  a  false  name  ;  and  the  astro- 
loger gave  a  judgment,  that  he  should  be  killed  in  a 
duel;  at  which  the  queen  laughed,  thinking  her 
husband  to  be  above  challenges  and  duels:  but  he 
was  slain,  upon  a  course  at  tilt,  the  splinters  of  the 
staff  of  Montgomery  going  in  at  his  beaver.  The 
trivial  prophecy  which  I  heard  when  I  \vas  a  child, 
and  queen  Elizabeth  was  in  the  flower  of  her  years, 

When  Hempe  Is  sponnc, 
d'*  donne. 

Whereby  it  was  generally  conceived,   that   after  the 
princes  had  reigned,  which  had  the  principal  letters 
of  that  word  Hempe,  which  were  Henry,   Edward, 
Alary,  Philip,  and  Elizabeth,  England  should  come 
to  utter  confusion  ;  which,  thanks  be  to  God,  is  ve- 
rified only   in  the  change  of  the  name,  for  that  the 
king's    style    is   now    no    more   of  England,   but    of 
Britain.    There  was  also  another  prophecy  before  the 
year  of  eighty-eight,  which  I  do  not  well  understand  : 
There  shall  be  seen  upon  a  day, 
Between  the  bau^h  and  the  Mayy 
The  black  Jleet  of  Noncau. 
When  that  is  come  and  gone, 
England  build  houses  of  lime  and  stone, 
For  after  icars  shall  you  hare  none. 

It  was  generally  conceived  to  be  meant  of  the  Spanish 
fleet  that  came  in  eighty-eight.  For  that  the  king  of 
Spain's  surname,  as  they  say,  is  Norway.  The  pre- 
diction of  Regiomontanus, 

Qctogesimus  octavus  mirabilis  annus  ; 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  .343 

was  thought  likewise  accomplished,  in  the  sending 
of  that  great  fleet,  being  the  greatest  in  strength, 
though  not  in  number,  of  all  that  ever  swam  upon  the 
sea.  As  for  CJeon's  dream,  I  think  it  was  a  jest :  it 
was,  that  he  was  devoured  of  a  long  dragon ;  and  it 
was  expounded  of  a  maker  of  sausages  that  troubled 
him  exceedingly.  There  are  numbers  of  the  like 
kind  ;  especially  if  you  include  dreams,  and  predic- 
tions of  astrology.  But  I  have  set  down  these  few 
only  of  certain  credit,  for  example.  My  judgment  is, 
that  they  ought  all  to  be  despised,  and  ought  to  serve 
but  for  winter-talk  by  the  fire-side.  Though  when  I 
say  de'spised,  I  mean  it  as  for  belief:  for  otherwise, 
the  spreading  or  publishing  of  them,  is  in  no  sort  to 
be  despised ;  for  they  have  done  much  mischief.  And 
I  see  many  severe  laws  made  to  suppress  them.  What 
hath  given  them  grace,  and  some  credit,  consisteth  in 
three  things  :  first,  that  men  mark  when  they  hit,  and 
never  mark  when  they  miss;  as  they  do,  generally, 
also  of  dreams.  The  second  is,  that  probable  con- 
jectures, or  obscure  traditions,  many  times,  turn 
themselves  into  prophecies:  while  the  nature  of  man, 
which  coveteth  divination,  thinks  it  no  peril  to  fore- 
tel  that,  which  indeed  they  do  but  collect ;  as  that 
of  Seneca's  verse.  For  so  much  was  then  subject  to 
demonstration,  that  the  globe  of  the  earth  had  great 
parts  beyond  the  Atlantic,  which  might  be  probably 
conceived  not  to  be  all  sea :  and  adding  thereto,  the 
tradition  in  Plato's  Timaws,  and  his  Atlanticu^  it 
might  encourage  one  to  turn  it  to  a  prediction.  The 
third  and  last,  which  is  the  great  one,  is,  that  almost 
all  of  them,  being  infinite  in  number,  have  been  im- 
postures, and  by  idle  and  crafty  .brains,  merely  con- 
trived and  feigned  after  the  event  past. 


AMBITION  is  like  choler,  which  is  an  humour 
that  maketh  men  active,  earnest,  full  of  alacrity,  and 
stirring,  if  it  be  not  stopped.  But  if  it  be  stopped, 
and  cannot  have  its  way,  it  becometh  adust,  and 
thereby  malign  and  venomous.  So  ambitious  men^  if 

344  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

they  find  the  way  open  for  their  rising,  and  still  get 
forward,  they  are  rather  busy  than  dangerous ;  but  if 
they  be  checked  in  their  desires,  they  become  secretly 
discontent,  and  look  upon  men  and  matters  with 
an  evil  eye,  and  are  best  pleased  when  things  go 
backward  ;  which  is  the  worst  property  in  a  servant 
of  a  prince  or  state.  Therefore  it  is  good  for  princes, 
if  they  use  ambitious  men,  to  handle  it  so,  as  they  be 
still  progressive,  and  not  retrograde  ;  which,  because 
it  cannot  be  without  inconvenience,  it  is  good  not 
to  use  such  natures  at  all.  For  if  they  rise  not  with 
their  service,  they  will  take  order  to  make  their 
service  fall  with  them.  But  since  we  have  said  it 
were  good  not  to  use  men  of  ambitious  natures,  ex- 
cept it  be  upon  necessity,  it  is  fit  we  speak,  in  what 
cases  they  are  of  necessity.  Good  commanders  in  the 
wars  must  be  taken;  be  they  never  so  ambitious  :  for 
the  use  of  their  service  dispenseth  with  the  rest ;  and 
to  take  a  soldier  without  ambition,  is  to  pull  off  his 
spurs.  There  is  also  great  use  of  ambitious  men  in 
being  screens  to  princes,  in  matters  of  danger  and 
envy  :  for  no  man  will  take  that  part,  except  he  be 
like  a  seeled  dove,  that  mounts,  and  mounts,  because 
he  cannot  see  about  him.  There  is  use  also  of  am- 
bitious men  in  pulling  down  the  greatness  of  any 
subject  that  over-tops;  as  Tiberius  used  Macro  in 
the  pulling  down  of  Sejanus.  Since  therefore  they 
must  be  used  in  such  cases,  there  resteth  to  speak  how 
they  are  to  be  bridled,  that  they  may  be  less  dan- 
gerous. There  is  less  danger  of  them,  if  they  be  of 
mean  birth,  than  if  they  be  noble  ;  and  if  they  be 
rather  harsh  of  nature,  than  gracious  and  popular; 
and  if  they  be  rather  new  raised,  than  grown  cunning 
and  fortified  in  their  greatness.  It  is  counted  by 
some  a  weakness  in  princes  to  have  favourites  ;  but 
it  is,  of  all  others,  the  best  remedy  against  ambitious 
great  ones.  For  when  the  way  of  pleasuring  and  dis- 
pleasuring lieth  by  the  favourite,  it  is  impossible  any 
other  should  be  over-great.  Another  means  to  curb 
them,  is  to  balance  them  by  others  as  proud  as  they.: 
But  then  there  must  be  some  middle  counsellors  ta 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  345 

keep  things  steady  ;  for  without  that  ballast  the  ship 
will  roll  too  much.  At  the  least  a  prince  may  ani^ 
mate  and  inure  some  meaner  persons,  to  be  as  it 
were  scourges  to  ambitious  men.  As  for  the  having 
of  them  obnoxious  to  ruin,  if  they  be  of  fearful  na- 
tures, it  may  do  well :  but  if  they  be  stout  and  daring, 
it  may  precipitate  their  designs,  and  prove  dangerous. 
As  for  the  pulling  of  them  down,  if  the  affairs  require 
it,  and  that  it  may  not  be  done  with  safety  suddenly, 
the  only  way  is,  the  interchange  continually  of  favours 
and  disgraces,  whereby  they  may  not  know  what  to 
expect,  and  be  as  it  were  in  a  wood.  Of  ambitions, 
it  is  less  harmful  the  ambition  to  prevail  in  great 
things,  than  that  other  to  appear  in  every  thing;  for 
that  breeds  confusion,  and  mars  business:  but  yet  it 
is  less  danger  to  have  an  ambitious  man  stirring  in 
business,  than  great  in  dependences.  He  that  seeketh 
to  be  eminent  amongst  able  men,  hath  a  great  task ; 
but  that  is  ever  good  for  the  public.  But  he  that 
plots  to  be  the  only  figure  amongst  ciphers,  is  the 
decay  of  a  whole  age.  Honour  hath  three  things  in 
it :  the  vantage  ground  to  do  good  ;  the  approach  to 
kings  and  principal  persons  ;  and  the  raising  of  a 
man's  own  fortunes.  He  that  hath  the  best  of  these 
intentions,  when  he  aspireth,  is  an  honest  man:  and 
that  prince  that  can  discern  of  these  intentions  in 
another  that  aspireth,  is  a  wise  prince.  Generally  let 
princes  and  states  choose  such  ministers  as  are  more 
sensible  of  duty  than  of  rising  ;  and  such  as  love 
business  rather  upon  conscience,  than  upon  bravery  : 
and  let  them  discern  a  busy  nature  from  a  willing 


THESE  things  are  but  toys  to  come  amongst  such 
serious  observations.  But  yet,  since  princes  will  have 
such  things,  it  is  better  they  should  be  graced  with 
elegancy,  than  daubed  with  cost.  Dancing  to  song, 
is  a  thing  of  great  state  and  pleasure.  I  understand 
it,  that  the  song  be  in  quire,  placed  aloft,  and  accom- 
panied with  some  broken  music  :  and  the  ditty  fitted 

346  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

to  the  device.  Acting  in  song,  especially  in  dia- 
logues, hath  an  extreme  good  grace  ;  I  say  acting, 
not  dancing,  for  that  is  a  mean  and  vulgar  thing,  and 
the  voices  of  the  dialogue  should  be  strong  and 
manly,  a  base,  and  a  tenor  ;  no  treble,  and  the  ditty 
high  and  tragical  ;  not  nice  or  dainty.  Several  quires 
placed  one  over-against  another,  and  taking  the  voice 
by  catches,  anthem-wise,  give  great  pleasure.  Turn- 
ing dances  into  figure,  is  a  childish  curiosity.  And 
generally  let  it  be  noted,  that  those  things  which  I 
here  set  down,  are  such  as  do  naturally  take  the 
sense,  and  not  respect  petty  wonderments.  It  is  true, 
the  alterations  of  scenes,  so  it  be  quietly  and  without 
noise,  are  things  of  great  beauty  and  pleasure ;  for 
they  feed  and  relieve  the  eye  before  it  be  full  of  the 
same  object.  Let  the  scenes  abound  with  light, 
specially  coloured  and  varied  :  and  let  the  maskers, 
or  any  other  that  are  to  come  down  trom  the  scene, 
have  some  motions  upon  the  scene  itself  before  their 
coming  down ;  for  it  draws  the  eye  strangely,  and 
makes"  it  with  great  pleasure  to  desire  to  see  that 
it  cannot  perfectly  discern.  Let  the  songs  be  loud 
and  chearful,  and  not  chirpings  or  pulings.  Let  the 
music  likewise  be  sharp  and  loud,  and  well  placed. 
The  colours  that  shew  best  by  candle-light,  are  white, 
carnation,  and  a  kind  of  sea-water  green  ;  and  ouches, 
or  spangs,  as  they  are  of  no  great  cost,  so  they  are  of 
most  glory.  As  for  rich  embroidery,  it  is  lost,  and 
not  discerned.  Let  the  suits  of  the  maskers  be  grace- 
ful, and  such  as  become  the  person  when  the  vizard* 
are  off:  not  after  examples  of  known  attires  \  turks, 
soldiers,  manners,  and  the  like.  Let  anti-masks  not 
be  long  ;  they  have  been  commonly  of  fools,  satyrs, 
baboons,  wild  men,  antics,  beasts,  spirits,  witches, 
ethiopes,  pigmies,  turquets,  nymphs,  rustics,  cupids, 
statues  moving,  and  the  like.  As  for  angels,  it  is 
not  comical  enough  to  put  them  in  anti-masks  ;  and 
any  thing  that  is  hideous,  as  devils,  giants,  is  on  the 
other  side  as  unfit  :  but  chiefly  let  the  music  of  them 
be  recreative,  and  with  some  strange  changes.  Some 
sweet  odours  suddenly  coming  forth  without  any  drops 

Essay s>  Civil  and  Moral.  347 

falling,  arc  in  such  a  company,  as  there  is  steam  and 
heat,  things  of  great  pleasure  and  refreshment.  Dou- 
ble masks,  one  of  men,  another  of  ladies,  addeth 
state  and  variety.  But  all  is  nothing  except  the  room 
be  kept  clear  and  neat. 

For  justs,  and  tourneys,  and  barriers,  the  glories  of 
them  are  chiefly  in  the  chariots,  wherein  the  challen- 
gers make  their  entry  ;  especially  if  they  be  drawn 
with  strange  beasts ;  as  lions,  bears,  camels,  and  the 
like  :  or  in  the  devices  of  their  entrance,  or  in  the  bra- 
very of  their  liveries  :  or  in  the  goodly  furniture  of 
their  horses  and  armour.  But  enough  of  these  toys. 

XXXVIII.     Of  NATURE  in  MEN. 

NATURE  is  often  hidden,  sometimes  overcome, 
seldom  extinguished.  Force  maketh  nature  more 
violent  in  the  return  ;  doctrine  and  discourse  maketh 
nature  less  importune:  but  custom  only  doth  alter  and 
subdue  nature.  He  that  seeketh  victory  over  his  na- 
ture, let  him  not  set  himself  too  great,  nor  too  small 
tasks ;  for  the  first  will  make  him  dejected  by  often 
failings  ;  and  the  second  will  make  him  a  small  pro- 
ceeder,  though  by  often  prevail  ings.  And  at  the 
first,  let  him  practise  with  helps,  as  swimmers  do  with 
bladders  or  rushes :  but  after  a  time  let  him  practise 
with  disadvantages,  as  dancers  do  with  thick  shoes. 
For  it  breeds  great  perfection  if  the  practice  be  harder 
than  the  use.  Where  nature  is  mighty,  and  therefore 
the  victory  hard,  the  degrees  had  need  be,  first  to  stay 
and  arrest  nature  in  time;  like  to  him  that  would  say 
over  the  four  and  twenty  letters  when  he  was  angry : 
then  to  go  less  in  quantity;  as  if  one  should,  in  for- 
bearing wine,  come  from  drinking  healths,  to  a 
draught  at  a  meal  ;  and  lastly,  to  discontinue  altoge- 
ther. But  if  a  man  have  the  fortitude  and  resolu- 
tion to  enfranchise  himself  at  once,  that  is  the  best. 
Opiimus  Hie  animi  v index,  Itedentia  pectus 

Vincula  qui  rupit,  dedoluitque  semcl. 
Neither  is  the  ancient  rule  amiss,  to  bend  nature  as  a 
wand  to  a  contrary  extreme,  whereby  to  set  it  right: 
understanding  it   where    the  contrary  extreme  is  no 

348  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

vice.  Let  not  a  man  force  a  habit  upon  himself  with 
a  perpetual  continuance,  but  with  some  intermission. 
For  both  the  pause  reinforceth  the  new  onset ;  and  if 
a  man  that  is  not  perfect  be  ever  in  practice,  he  shall 
as  well  practise  his  errors  as  his  abilities,  and  induce 
one  habit  of  both  ;  and  there  is  no  means  to  help  this 
but  by  seasonable  intermissions.  But  let  not  a  man 
trust  his  victory  over  his  nature  too  far ;  for  nature 
will  lie  buried  a  great  time,  and  yet  revive  upon  the 
occasion  or  temptation.  Like  as  it  was  with  ^Esop's 
damsel,  turned  from  a  cat  to  a  woman,  who  sat  very 
demurely  at  the  board's  end,  till  a  mouse  ran  before 
her.  Therefore  let  a  man  either  avoid  the  occasion 
altogether,  or  put  himself  often  to  it,  that  he  may  be 
little  moved  with  it.  A  man's  nature  is  best  per- 
ceived in  privateness,  for  there  is  no  affectation ;  in 
passion,  for  that  putteth  a  man  out  of  his  precepts  ; 
and  in  a  new  case  or  experiment,  for  there  custom 
leaveth  him.  They  are  happy  men,  whose  natures 
sort  with  their  vocations ;  otherwise  they  may  say, 
Multum  incolafidt  anbna  mea  :  when  they  converse  in 
those  things  they  do  not  affect.  In  studies,  whatsoever 
a  man  commandeth  upon  himself,  let  him  set  hours 
for  it;  but  whatsoever  is  agreeable  to  his  nature,  let 
him  take  no  care  for  any  set  times ;  for  his  thoughts 
will  fly  to  it  of  themselves^-so  as  the  spaces  of  other 
business  or  studies  will  suffice.  A  man's  nature  runs 
either  to  herbs  or  weeds:  Therefore  let  him  season- 
ably water  the  one,  and  destroy  the  other. 


MENS  thoughts  are  much  according  to  their  incli- 
nation; their  discourse  and  speeches  according  to 
their  learning  and  infused  opinions  ;  but  their  deeds 
are  after  as  they  have  been  accustomed.  And  there- 
fore, as  Machiavel  well  noteth,  though  in  an  evil-fa- 
voured instance,  there  is  no  trusting  to  the  force  of 
nature,  nor  to  the  bravery  of  words,  except  it  be 
corroborated  by  custom.  His  instance  is,  that  for  the 
atchieving  of  a  desperate  conspiracy,  a  man  should  not 
rest  upon  the  fierceness  of  any  man's  nature,  or  his 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  849 

resolute  undertakings ;  but  take  such  an  one  as  hath 
had  his  hands  formerly  in  blood.  But  Machiavel  knew 
not  of  a  friar  Clement,  nor  a  Ravillac,  nor  a  Jauregny, 
nor  a  Baltazar  Gerard  :  yet  his  rule  holdeth  still,  that 
nature,  nor  the  engagement  of  words,  are  not  so  for- 
cible as  custom.  Only  superstition  is  now  so  well  ad- 
vanced, that  men  of  the  first  blood  are  as  firm  as  but- 
chers by  occupation :  and  votary  resolution  is  made 
equipollent  to  custom,  even  in  matter  of  blood.  In 
other  things,  the  predominancy  of  custom  is  every 
where  visible  ;  insomuch  as  a  man  would  wonder  to 
hear  men  profess,  protest,  engage,  give  great  words, 
and  then  do  just  as  they  have  done  before  :  as  if  they 
were  dead  images,  and  engines  moved  only  by  the 
wheels  of  custom.  We  see  also  the  reign  or  tyranny 
of  custom  what  it  is.  The  Indians,  I  mean  the  sect 
of  their  wise  men,  lay  themselves  quietly  upon  a  stack 
of  wood,  and  so  sacrifice  themselves  by  fire.  Nay,  the 
wives  strive  to  be  burned  with  the  corps  of  their  hus- 
bands. The  lads  of  Sparta,  of  ancient  time,  were 
wont  to  be  scourged  upon  the  altar  of  Diana,  without 
so  much  as  wincing.  I  remember  in  the  beginning 
of  queen  Elizabeth's  time  of  England,  an  Irish  rebel 
condemned  put  up  a  petition  to  the  deputy,  that  he 
might  be  hanged  in  a  with,  and  not  in  an  halter,  be- 
cause it  had  been  so  used  with  former  rebels.  There 
be  monks  in  Russia,  for  penance,  that  will  sit  a  whole 
night  in  a  vessel  of  water,  till  they  be  engaged  with 
hard  ice.  Many  examples  may  be  put  of  the  force  of 
custom,  both  upon  mind  and  body.  Therefore  since 
custom  is  the  principal  magistrate  of  man's  life,  let  men 
by  all  means  endeavour  to  obtain  good  customs.  Cer- 
tainly custom  is  most  perfect,  when  it  beginneth  in 
young  years  :  this  we  call  education,  which  is,  in 
effect,  but  an  early  custom.  So  we  see  in  languages, 
the  tongue  is  more  pliant  to  all  expressions  and  sounds, 
the  joints  are  more  supple  to  all  feats  of  activity  and 
motions,  in  youth  than  afterwards.  For  it  is  true, 
that  late  learners  cannot  so  well  take  the  ply,  except 
it  be 'in  some  minds  that  have  not  suffered  themselves 
ip  fix,  but  have  kept,  themselves  open  and  prepared  to 

350  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

receive  continual  amendment,  which  is  exceeding 
rare.  But  if  the  force  of  custom  simple  and  separate 
be  great ;  the  force  of  custom  copulate  and  conjoined, 
and  collegiate,  is  far  greater.  For  there  example 
teacheth,  company  comforteth,  emulation  quicken- 
eth,  glory  raiscth:  so  as  in  such  places  the  force  of  cus- 
torn  is  in  its  exaltation.  Certainly  the  great  multi- 
plication of  virtues  upon  human  nature,  resteth  upon 
societies  well  ordained  and  disciplined.  For  com- 
monwealths and  good  governments  do  nourish  virtue 
grown,  but  do  not  much  mend  the  seeds.  But  the 
misery  is,  that  the  most  effectual  means  are  now  ap- 
plied to  the  ends  least  to  be  desired. 

XL.     Of  FORTUNE. 

IT  cannot  be  denied  but  outward  accidents  con- 
duce much  to  fortune :  favour,    opportuity,  death  of 
others,  occasion  fitting  virtue.     But  chiefly,  the  mold 
of  a  man's  fortune  is  in  his  own  hands.     Faber  qitis* 
quc  fortune  su<£ ;  saith   the  poet.     And  the  most  fre- 
quent of  external  causes  is,  that  the  folly  of  one  man 
is  the  fortune  of  another.     For  no  man  prospers  so 
suddenly  as  by  others  errors.     Serpens  nisi  serpent  tin 
comederit  non  fit  draco.     Overt  and  apparent  virtues 
bring  forth  praise ;  but  there   be   secret  and  hidden 
virtues  that  bring  forth  fortune  :  certain  deliveries  of 
a  man's  self,  which    have    no    name.     The  Spanish 
name,  dtsemboltura,  partly  expresseth  them  :  when 
there  be  not  stonds,  nor  restiveness  in  a  man's  na- 
ture ;  but  that  the  wheels  of  his  mind  keep  way  with 
the  wheels  of  his  fortune.     For  so  Livy,  after  he  had 
described  Cato  Major  in  these  words;  in  illo  viro,  tan- 
turn  robor  corporis  et  animifidt,  ut  qnocunqiie  Loco  natus 
essetyfortunamsibifacturusvideretur  >  faileth  upon  that, 
that  he  had  versatile  ingenium.  Therefore  if  a  man  look 
sharply  and  attentively,  he  shall  see  fortune :  for  though 
she  be  blind,  yet  she  is  not  invisible.    The  way  of  for- 
tune is  like  the  milky  way  in  the   sky  ;  which  is  a 
meeting  or  knot  of  a  number  of  small  stars,  not  seen 
asunder,  but  giving  light  together.     So  are  there  a 
number  of  little  and  scarce  discerned  virtues,  or  rather 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

faculties  and  customs,  that  make  men  fortunate.  The! 
Italians  note  some  of  them,  such  as  a  man  would  little 
think.  When  they  speak  of  one  that  cannot  do  amiss, 
they  will  throw  in  into  his  other  conditions,  that  he 
hath  Poco  di  matto.  And  certainly  there  be  not  two 
more  fortunate  properties,  than  to  have  a  little  of  the 
fool,  and  not  too  much  of  the  honest.  Therefore  ex- 
treme lovers  of  their  country,  or  masters,  were  never 
fortunate,  neither  can  they  be.  For  when  a  man 
placeth  his  thoughts  without  himself,  he  goeth  not 
his  own  way.  An  hasty  fortune  maketh  an  enter- 
priser and  remover  ;  the  French  hath  it  better,  entre- 
prenant,  or  remuant,  but  the  exercised  fortune  maketh 
the  able  man.  Fortune  is  to  be  honoured  and  respec- 
ed,  and  it  be  but  for  her  daughters,  Confidence  and 
Reputation.  For  those  two  felicity  breedeth  :  the 
first  within  a  man's  self;  the  latter  in  others  towards 
him.  All  wise  men,  to  decline  the  envy  of  their  own 
virtues,  use  to  ascribe  them  to  Providence  and  fortune ; 
for  so  they  may  the  better  assume  them  :  and  besides, 
it  is  greatness  in  a  man  to  be  the  care  of  the  higher 
powers.  So  Caesar  said  to  the  Pilot  in  the  tempest, 
C<esarem  portas,  et  fortiuiam  ejus.  So  Sylla  chose  the 
name  offelix,  and  not  of  magnus :  and  it  hath  been 
noted,  that  those  that  ascribe  openly  too  much  to 
their  own  wisdom  and  policy,  end  unfortunate.  It 
is  written,  that  Timotheus  the  Athenian,  after  he  had 
in  the  account  he  gave  to  the  state  of  his  government, 
often  interlaced  this  speech,  "  And  in  this  fortune 
"  had  no  part ;"  never  prospered  in  any  thing  he  un- 
dertook afterwards.  Certainly  there  be,  whose  for- 
tunes are  like  Homer's  verses,  that  have  a  slide  and 
easiness  more  than  the  verses  of  other  poets :  as  Plu- 
tarch saith  of  Timoleon's  fortune,  in  respect  of  that 
of  Agesilaus  or  Epaminondas.  And  that  this  should 
be,  no  doubt  it  is  much  in  a  man's  self. 

XLI.     Of  USURY. 

.  MANY  have  made  witty  invectives  against  usury. 
They  say,  That  it  is  pity  the  devil  should  have  God's 
part,  which  is  the  titlie.  That  the  usurer  is" 

352  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

greatest  sabbath-breaker,  because  his  plough  goeth 
every  Sunday.  That  the  usurer  is  the  drone  that  Vir- 
gil speaketh  of: 

Ignavum  fitcos  pecus  £  prasepibus  arcent. 
That  the  usurer  breaketh  the  first  law  that  was  made 
for  mankind  after  the  fall ;  which  was,  In  sudore  vultus 
tui  comedcs  panem  tuum  s  not,  In  sudore  vultus  alieni. 
That  usurers  should  have  orange-tawney  bonnets,  be- 
cause they  do  judaize.  That  it  is  against  nature,  for 
money  to  beget  money:  and  the  like.  I  say  this 
only,  that  usury  is  a  concessum  propter  durilwm  cordis : 
for  since  there  must  be  borrowing  and  lending,  and 
men  are  so  hard  of  heart  as  they  will  not  lend  freely, 
usury  must  be  permitted.  Some  others  have  made 
suspicious  and  cunning  propositions  of  banks,  disco- 
very of  men's  estates,  and  other  inventions.  But  few 
have  spoken  of  usury  usefully.  It  is  good  to  set  before 
us  the  incommodities  and  commodities  of  usury ;  that 
the  good  may  be  either  weighed  out,  or  culled  out ; 
and  warily  to  provide,  that  while  we  make  forth  to 
that  which  is  better,  we  meet  not  with  that  which  is 

The  discommodities  of  usury  are :  first,  that  it 
makes  fewer  merchants.  For  were  it  not  for  this  lazy 
trade  of  usury,  money  would  not  lie  still,  but  would 
in  great  part  be  employed  upon  merchandizing ;  which 
is  the  vcnapor-ta  of  wealth  in  a  state.  The  second, 
that  it  makes  poor  merchants.  For  as  a  farmer  cannot 
husband  his  ground  so  well,  if  he  sit  at  a  great  rent ; 
so  the  merchant  cannot  drive  his  trade  so  well,  if  he  sit 
at  great  usury.  The  third  is  incident  to  the  other  two  -y 
and  that  is>  the  decay  of  customs  of  kings  or  states, 
which  ebb  or  flow  with  merchandizing.  The  fourth, 
that  it  bringeth  the  treasure  of  a  realm  or  state  into 
a  few  hands.  For  the  usurer  being  at  certainties,  and 
others  at  uncertainties,  at  the  end  of  the  game  most 
of  the  money  will  be  in  the  box  ;  and  ever  a  state 
flourisheth  when  wealth  is  more  equally  spread.  The 
fifth,  that  it  beats  down  the  price  of  land  :  for  the  em- 
ployment of  money  is  chiefly  either  merchandizing  or 
purchasing  j  and  usury  waylays  both.  The  sixth,  that 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  353 

it  doth  dull  and  damp  all  industries,  improvements, 
and  new  inventions,  wherein  money  should  be  stir- 
ing,  if  it  were  not  for  this  slug.  The  last,  that  it  is 
the  canker  and  ruin  of  many  mens  estates,  which  in 
process  of  time  breeds  a  public  poverty. 

On  the  other  side,  the  commodities  of  usury  are : 
first,  that  howsoever  usury  in  some  respect  hindereth 
merchandizing,  yet  in  some  other  it  advanceth  it ;  for 
it  is  certain  that  the  greatest  part  of  trade  is  driven 
by  young  merchants,  upon  borrowing  at  interest ;  so 
as  if  the  usurer  either  call  in  or  keep  back  his  money, 
there  will  ensue  presently  a  great  stand  of  trade.  The 
second  is,  that  were  it  not  for  this  easy  borrowing 
upon  interest,  mens  necessities  would  draw  upon  them 
a  most  sudden  undoing  ;  in  that  they  would  be  forced 
to  sell  their  means,  be  it  in  lands  or  goods,  far  under 
foot ;  and  so  whereas  usury  doth  but  gnaw  upon  them, 
bad  markets  would  swallow  them  quite  up.  As  for 
mortgaging  or  pawning,  it  will  little  mend  the  matter; 
for  either  men  will  not  take  pawns  without  use :  or  if 
they  do,  they  will  look  precisely  for  the  forfeiture.  I 
remember  a  cruel  moneyed  man  in  the  country,  that 
would  say  ;  "  The  devil  take  this  usury,  it  keeps  us 
"  from  forfeitures  of  mortgages  and  bonds."  The 
third  and  last  is,  that  it  is  a  vanity  to  conceive,  that 
there  would  be  ordinary  borrowing  without  profit ; 
and  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  the  number  of  in- 
conveniences that  will  ensue,  if  borrowing  be  cramped. 
Therefore  to  speak  of  the  abolishing  of  usury  is  idle. 
All  states  have  ever  had  it  in  one  kind  or  rate  or  other. 
So  as  that  opinion  must  be  sent  to  Utopia. 

To  speak  now  of  the  reformation  and  reglement  of 
usury  :  how  the  discommodities  of  it  may  be  best 
avoided,  and  the  commodities  retained  :  it  appears 
by  the  balance  of  commodities  and  discommodities  of 
usury,  two  things  are  to  be  reconciled.  The  one,  that 
the  tooth  of  usury  be  grinded  that  it  bite  not  too 
much :  the  other,  that  there  be  left  open  a  means  to 
invite  monied  men  to  lend  to  the  merchants,  for  the 
continuing  and  quickening  of  trade.  This  cannot  be 
done,  except  you  introduce  two  several  sorts  of  usury, 

VOL.  II.  A  A 

354  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

a  less  and  a  greater.  For  if  you  reduce  usury  to  one 
low  rate,  it  will  ease  the  common  borrower,  but  the 
merchant  will  be  to  seek  for  money.  And  it  is  to  be 
noted,  that  the  trade  of  merchandize  being  the  most 
lucrative,  may  bear  usury  at  a  good  rate ;  other  con- 
tracts not  so. 

To  serve  both  intentions,  the  way  should  be  briefly 
thus.  That  there  be  two  rates  of  usury  ;  the  one  free 
and  general  for  all ;  the  other  under  licence  only  to 
Certain  persons,  and  in  certain  places  of  merchandiz- 
ing. First  therefore  let  usury  in  general  be  reduced 
to  five  in  the  hundred  ;  and  let  that  rate  be  proclaim- 
ed to  be  free  and  current ;  and  let  the  state  shut  itself 
out  to  take  any  penalty  for  the  same.  This  will  pre- 
serve borrowing  from  any  general  stop  or  dryness. 
This  will  ease  infinite  borrowers  in  the  country. 
This  will  in  good  part  raise  the  price  of  land,  because 
land  purchased  at  sixteen  years  purchase,  will  yield 
six  in  the  hundred  and  somewhat  more,  whereas  this 
rate  of  interest  yields  but  five.  This  by  like  reason 
will  encourage  and  edge  industrious  and  profitable  im- 
provements ;  because  many  will  rather  venture  in  that 
kind,  than  take  five  in  the  hundred,  especially  having 
been  used  to  greater  profit.  Secondly,  let  there  be 
certain  persons  licensed  to  lend  to  known  merchants, 
upon  usury  at  a  higher  rate :  and  let  it  be  with  the 
cautions  following.  Let  the  rate  be,  even  with  the 
merchant  himself,  somewhat  more  easy  than  that  he 
used  formerly  to  pay  :  for  by  that  means  all  borrowers 
shall  have  some  ease  by  this  reformation,  be  he  mer- 
chant or  whosoever.  Let  it  be  no  bank  or  common 
stock,  but  every  man  be  master  of  his  own  money. 
Not  that  I  altogether  mislike  banks,  but  they  will 
hardly  be  brooked  in  regard  of  certain  suspicions. 
Let  the  state  be  answered  some  small  matter  for  the 
licence,  and  the  rest  left  to  the  lender ;  for  if  the  abate- 
ment be  bui  small,  it  will  no  whit  discourage  the 
lender.  For  he,  for  example,  that  took  before  ten  or 
nine  in  the  hundred,  will  sooner  descend  to  eight  in 
the  hundred,  than  give  over  his  trade  of  usury  ;  and  go 
from  certain  gains,  to  gains  of  hazard.  Let  these  Ji- 

Essays,  Civil  and  MoraL  355 

censed  lenders  be  in  number  indefinite,  but  restrained 
to  certain  principal  cities  and  towns  of  merchandize 
ing  :  for  then  they  will  be  hardly  able  to  colour  other 
mens  moneys  in  the  country;  so  as  the  license  of  nine 
will  not  suck  away  the  current  rate  of  five :  for  no  man 
will  send  his  moneys  far  off,  nor  put  them  into  un- 
known hands. 

If  it  be  objected,  that  this  doth  in  a  sort  authorise 
usury,  which  before  was  in  some  places  but  permis- 
sive :  the  answer  is,  that  it  is  better  to  mitigate  usury  by 
declaration,  than  to  suffer  it  to  rage  by  connivance. 

XLII.  Of  YOUTH  and  AGE. 
A  MAN  that  is  young  in  years,  may  be  old  in 
hours,  if  he  have  lost  no  time.  But  that  happeneth 
rarely.  Generally  youth  is  like  the  first  cogitations, 
not  so  wise  as  the  second.  For  there  is  a  youth  in 
thoughts,  as  well  as  in  ages*  And  yet  the  invention 
of  young  men  is  more  lively  than  that  of  old ;  and  ima- 
ginations stream  into  their  minds  better,  and  as  it 
were  more  divinely.  Natures  that  have  much  heat, 
and  great  and  violent  desires  and  perturbations,  are 
not  ripe  for  action,  till  they  have  passed  the  meridian 
of  their  years  :  as  it  was  with  Julius  Cassar,  and  Sep- 
timius  Severus.  Of  the  latter  of  whom  it  is  said,  Ju- 
ventutem  egit  error  ibus,  imo  furoribus,  plenam.  And 
yet  he  was  the  ablest  emperor  almost  of  all  the  list. 
But  reposed  natures  may  do  well  in  youth  :  as  it  is  seen 
in  Augustus  Caesar,  Cosmus  duke  of  Florence,  Gaston 
de  Fois,  and  others.  On  the  other  side,  heat  and  vi- 
vacity in  age  is  an  excellent  composition  for  business. 
Young  men  are  fitter  to  invent  than  to  judge;  fitter 
for  execution  than  for  counsel ;  and  fitter  for  new 
projects,  than  for  settled  business.  For  the  experi- 
ence of  age,  in  things  that  fall  within  the  compass  of 
it,  directeth  them;  but  in  new  things  abuseth  them. 
The  errors  of  young  men  are  the  ruin  of  business  ; 
but  the  errors  of  aged  men  amount  but  to  this ;  that 
more  might  have  been  done,  or  sooner.  Young  men, 
in  the  conduct  and  management  of  actions,  embrace 
than  they  can  hold  -,  stir  more  than  they  can 
A  A  2 

Essays  j  Civil  and  Moral. 

quiet ;  fly  to  the  end,  without  consideration    of  the 
means  and  degrees  5    pursue   sonle    few   principles, 
which  they  have  chanced  upon,  absurdly  ;  care  not  to 
innovate,  which  draws  unknown  inconveniences  ;  use 
extreme  remedies  at  first;  and,  that  which  doubleth 
all  errors,  will  not  acknowledge  or  retract  them  ;  like 
an  unready  horse,  that  will  neither  stop  nor  turn.  Men 
of  age  object  too  much,  consult  too  long,  adventure 
too  little,  repent  too  soon,  and  seldom  drive  business 
home  to  the  full  period  ;  but  content  themselves  with 
a  mediocrity  of  success.     Certainly  it  is  good  to  com- 
pound employments  of  both  ;  for  that  will  be  good 
for  the  present,  because  the  virtues  of  either  age  may 
correct  the  defects  of  bo'th  :  and  good  for  succession, 
that  young  men  maybe  learners,  while  men  in  age  are 
actors:  and  lastly,  good  for  external  accidents,   be- 
cause  authority  followeth  old  men,  and  favour   and 
popularity  youth.     But  for  the   moral  part,  perhaps 
youth  will  have  the  pre-eminence,  as  age   hath  for 
the  politic.     A  certain  Rabbin  upon  the   text,  Your 
young  men  shall  see  visions 9  and  your   old  men   shall 
dream  dreams;  inferreth,  that  young  men  are  admitted 
nearer  to  God  than  old;  because  vision  is  a  clearer  re- 
velation than    a  dream.     And  certainly,  the  more  a 
man  drinketh  of  the  world,  the  more  it  intoxicateth ; 
and  age  doth  profit  rather  in  the  powers  of  understand- 
ing, than  in  the  virtues  of  the  will  and  affections.  There 
be  some   have  an  over-early  ripeness  in   their  years, 
which  fadeth   betimes:  these  are  first,   such  as  have 
brittle  wits,  the  edge  whereof  is  soon  turned ;  such 
as  was  Hermogenes  the  rhetorician,  whose  books  are 
exceeding  subtile  ;  who  afterwards  waxed  stupid.    A 
second  sort,  is  of  those  that  have  some  natural  dispo- 
sitions which  have  better  grace  in  youth  than  in  age; 
•such  as  is  a  fluent  and  luxuriant  speech;  which   be- 
comes youth  well,  but   not  age.     So  Tully  saith  of 
Hortensius  ;   idem  manebat,  ncque  idem  decebat.     The 
third  is,  of  such  as  take  too  high  a  strain  at  the  first; 
and  are  magnanimous,  more  than  tract  of  years  can 
uphold.     As  was  Scipio  Africaniis,  of  whom    Livy 
>aith  in- effect 3  ijUma-primi^cedebant.      ,  ,«. 

Essays,  Civil  and  Mortil.  337 


VIRTUE  is  like  a  rich  stone,  best  plain  set :  and 
surely  virtue  is  best  in  a  body  that  is  comely,  though 
not  of  delicate  features;  and  that  hath  rather  dignity 
of  presence,  than  beauty  of  aspect.     Neither  is   it  al- 
most seen,  that  very  beautiful  persons  are  otherwise 
of  great  virtue.     As  if  nature  were  rather  busy  not  to 
err,  than  in  labour  to  produce  excellency.  And  there- 
fore they  prove  accomplished,  but  not  of  great  spirit; 
and  study  rather  behaviour  than  virtue.  But  this  holds 
not  always;  for  Augustus  Cassar,  Titus  Vespasianus, 
Philip  le  Belle  of  France,  Edward  the  fourth  of  Eng- 
land, Alcibiades  of  Athens,  Ismael  the  sophi  of  Per- 
sia, were  all  high  and  great  spirits;  and  yet  the  most 
beautiful  men  of  their  times.  In  beauty,  that  of  favour 
is  more  than  that  of  colour;  and  that  of  decent  and 
gracious  motion  more  than  that  of  favour.     That  is 
the  best  part  of  beauty,   which  a  picture  cannot  ex- 
press ;  no  nor  the  first  sight  of  the  life.     There  is  no 
excellent  beauty,  that  hath  not  some  strangeness  in 
the  proportion.     A  man  cannot  tell,  whether  Apelles 
or  Albert  Durer  were  the  more  trifler;  whereof  the 
one  would  make   a  personage  by  geometrical  propor- 
tions ;  the  other,  by  taking  the  best  parts  out  of  di- 
vers faces,  to  make  one  excellent.     Such  personages, 
I  think,  would   please  nobody  but  the  painter   that 
made  them.  Not  but  I  think  a  painter  may  make  a 
better  face  than  ever  was;  but  he  must  do  it  by  a 
kind  of  felicity,  as  a  musician  that  maketh  an  excel- 
lent air  in  music,  and  not  by  rule.     A  man  shall  see 
faces,  that  if  you  examine  them  part  by  part,  you  shall 
never  find  a  good  ;  and  yet  altogether  do  well.     If  it 
be  true,  that  the  principal  part  of  beauty  is  in  decent 
motion,  certainly,  it  is  no  marvel,  though  persons  in 
years  seem   many  times  more   amiable  ;  pulchrarum 
autumnus  pidclicr :  for  no  youth  can  be  comely  but  by 
pardon,  and  considering  the  youth,  as  to  makeup  the 
comeliness.      Beauty  is  as  summer  fruits,  which  are 
easy  to  corrupt,  and  cannot  last :  and  for  the  most  part 
it  makes  a  dissolute  youth,  and  an  age  a  little  out  of 

358  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

countenance  :  but  yet  certainly  again,  if  it  light  well, 
it  maketh  virtues  shine,  and  vices  blush. 


DEFORMED  persons    are   commonly  even  with 
nature  ;  for  as  nature  hath  done  ill  by   them,  so  do 
they  by  nature;  being  for  the  most  part,  as  the  Scrip- 
ture saith,  void  of  natural  affection:  and  so  they  have 
their  revenge  of  nature.     Certainly  there  is  a  consent 
between  the  body  and  the  mind,  and  where   nature 
erreth  in  the  one,  she  ventureth  in  the   other.     Ubi 
peccat  in  uno,  periclitatur  in  altero.    But  because  there 
is  ir  man  an  election  touching  the  frame  of  his  mind, 
and  a  necessity  in  the  frame  of  his  body,  the  stars  of 
natural  inclination  are  sometimes  obscured  by  the  sun 
of  discipline  and  virtue :  therefore  it  is  good  to  consi- 
der of  deformity,  not  as  a  sign  which  is  more  deceiv- 
able,  but  as  a  cause  which  seldom  faileth  of  the  effect. 
Whosoever  hath  any  thing  fixed   in   his  person  that 
doth  induce  contempt,  hath  also  a  perpetual  spur  in 
himself,  to  rescue  and  deliver   himself  from  scorn ; 
therefore    all   deformed   persons    are    extreme  bold. 
First,  as  in  their  own  defence,  as  being  exposed  to 
scorn  ;    but  in  process  of  time,  by  a  general  habit. 
Also  it   stirreth  in  them   industry,   and  especially  of 
this   kind,  to   watch    and  observe   the  weakness  of 
others,    that    they   may    have    somewhat  to  repay. 
Again,  in  their  superiors  it  quencheth  jealousy    to- 
wards them,  as  persons  that  they  think  they  may  at 
pleasure  despise  :  and  it  layeth  .their  competitors  and 
emulators,  asleep  ;  as  never  believing  they  should  be 
in  possibility  of  advancement,  till  they  see  them  in 
possession.     So  that,  upon  the  matter,  in  a  great  wit 
deformity  is  an  advantage  to  rising.     Kings  in  ancient 
times,  and  at  this  present,  in  some  countries,  were 
wont  to  put  great  trust  in  eunuchs,  because  they  that 
are  envious  towards  all,  are  more  obnoxious  and  of- 
ficious towards  one.    But  yet  their  trust  towards  them 
hath  rather  been  as  to  good  spials,  and  good  whis- 
perers,   than   good  magistrates  and  officers.      And 
much  like  is  the  reason  of  deformed  persons.     Still 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

the  ground  is,  they  will,  if  they  be  of  spirit,  seek  to 
free  themselves  from  scorn  ;  which  must  be  either  by 
virtue  or  malice.  And  therefore  let  it  not:  be  mar- 
velled, if  sometimes  they  prove  excellent  persons ;  as 
was  Agesilaus,  Zanger  the  son  of  Solyman-,  ^Esop, 
Gasca  president  of  I3eru  ;  and  Socrates  may  go  like- 
wise amongst  them,  with  others. 


HOUSES  are  built  to  live  in,  and  not  to  look  on  ; 
therefore  let  use  be  preferred  before  uniformity,  ex- 
cept where  both  may  be  had.  Leave  the  goodly 
fabrics  of  houses  for  beauty  only,  to  the  inchanted  pa- 
laces of  the  poets:  who  build  them  with  small  cost. 
He  that  builds  a  fair  house  upon  an  ill  seat,  commit- 
teth  himself  to  prison.  Neither  do  I  reckon  it  an  ill 
seat  only,  where  the  air  is  unwholesome,  but  likewise 
where  the  air  is  unequal ;  as  you  shall  see  many  fine 
seats,  set  upon  a  knap  of  ground,  environed  with 
higher  hills  round  about  it,  whereby  the  heat  of  the 
sun  is  pent  in,  and  the  wind  gathereth  as  in  troughs; 
so  as  you  shall  have,  and  that  suddenly,  as  great  diver- 
sity of  heat  and  cold,  as  if  you  dwelt  in  several 
places.  Neither  is  it  ill  air  only  that  maketh  an  ill  seat; 
but  ill  ways,  ill  markets  ;  and,  if  you  will  consult  with 
Momus,  ill  neighbours.  I  speak  not  of  many  more; 
want  of  water,  want  of  wood,  shade,  and  shelter ; 
want  of  fruitfulness,  and  mixture  of  grounds  of  several 
natures  ;  want  of  prospect,  want  of  level  grounds  ; 
want  of  places  at  some  near  distance  for  sports  of 
hunting,  hawking,  and  races^;  too  near  the  sea;  too 
remote ;  having  the  commodity  of  navigable  rivers, 
or  the  discommodity  of  their  overflowing ;  too  far  off 
from  great  cities,  which  may  hinder  business  ;  or  too 
near  them,  which  lurcheth  all  provisions,  and  maketh 
every  thing  dear;  where  a  man  hath  a  great  living 
laid  together,  and  where  he  is  scanted  :  all  which,  as 
it  is  impossible,  perhaps  to  find  together,  so  it  is  good 
to  know  them,  and  think  of  them,  that  a  man  may 
take  as  many  as  he  can  :  and  if  he  have  several  dwel- 
lings, that  he  sort  them  so;  that  what  he  wantcth  in 

36O  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

the  one,  he  may  find  in  the  other.  Lucullus  answered 
Pompey  well,  who,  when  he  saw  his  stately  galleries 
and  rooms,  so  large  and  lightsome  in  one  of  his 
houses,  said,  cc  Surely  an  excellent  place  for  summer, 
"  but  how  do  you  do  in  winter?5'  Lucullus  an- 
swered, "  Why,  "do  you  not  think  me  as  wise  as  some 
<f  fowls  are,  that  ever  change  their  abode  towards 
"  the  winter?" 

To  pass  from  the  seat  to  the  house  itself,  we  will  do 
as  Cicero  doth  in  the  orator's  art,  who  writes  books 
de  orator e,  and  a  book  he  entitles  Orator:  whereof 
the  former  delivers  the  precepts  of  the  art,  and  the 
latter  the  perfection.  We  will  therefore  describe  a 
princely  palace,  making  a  brief  model  thereof.  For 
it  is  strange  to  see  now  in  Europe,  such  huge  buildings 
as  the  Vatican,  and  Escurial,  and  some  others  be, 
and  yet  scarce  a  very  fair  room  in  them. 

First  therefore,  I  say,  you  cannot  have  a  perfect 
palace,  except  you  have  two  several  sides;  a  side  for 
the  banquet,  as  is  spoken  of  in  the  book  of  Esther ; 
and  a  side  for  the  houshold :  the  one  for  feast  and 
triumphs,  the  other  for  dwelling.  I  understand  both 
these  sides  to  be  not  only  returns,  but  parts  of  the  front ; 
and  to  be  uniform  without,  though  severally  parti- 
tioned within;  and  to  be  on  both  sides  of  a  great  and 
stately  tower,  in  the  midst  of  the  front;  that  as  it 
were  joineth  them  together  on  either  hand.  1  would 
have  on  the  side  of  the  banquet,  in  front,  one  only 
goodly  room  above  stairs,  of  some  forty  foot  high; 
and  under  it  a  room  for  a  dressing  or  preparing  place, 
at  times  of  triumphs.  On  the  other  side,  which  is 
the  houshold  side,  I  wish  it  divided  at  the  first  into  a 
hall  and  a  chapel,  with  a  partition  between,  both  of 
good  state  and  bigness ;  and  those  not  to  go  all  the 
length,  but  to  have  at  the  farther  end  a  winter  and  a 
summer  parlour,  both  fair:  and  under  these  rooms  a 
fair  and  large  cellar  sunk  under  ground ;  and  likewise 
some  privy  kitchens,  with  butteries,  and  pantries, 
anpl  the  like,  As  for  the  tower,  I  would  have  it  two 
stones,  of  eighteen  foot  high  apiece,  above  the  two 
\yingsj  and  a  goodly  leads  upon  the  top,  railed,  with 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

statues  interposed;  and  the  same  tower  to  be  divided 
into  rooms,  as  shall  be  thought  fit.  The  stairs  like- 
wise to  the  upper  rooms,  let  them  be  upon  a  fair  open 
newel,  and  finely  railed  in,  with  images  of  wood  cast 
into  a  brass  colour;  and  a  very  fair  landing-place  at 
the  top.  But  this  to  be,  if  you  do  not  appoint  any  of 
the  lower  rooms  for  a  dining-place  of  servants ;  for 
otherwise  you  shall  have  the  servants  dinner  after  your 
own :  for  the  steam  of  it  will  come  up  as  in  a  tunnel. 
And  so  much  for  the  front.  Only  I  understand  the 
height  of  the  first  stairs  to  be  sixteen  foot,  which  is 
the  height  of  the  lower  room. 

Beyond  this  front  is  there  to  be  a  fair  court,  but 
three  .sides  of  it  of  a  far  lower  building  than  the  front. 
And  in  all  the  four  corners  of  that  court,  fair  stair-cases 
cast  into  turrets  on  the  outside,  and  not  within  the  row 
of  buildings  themselves:  but  those  towers  are  not  to 
be  of  the  height  of  the  front,  but  rather  proportion- 
able to  the  lower   building.     Let  the  court  not  be 
paved,  for  that  striketh   up   a  great  heat  in  summer, 
and  much  cold  in  winter :  but  only  some  side  alleys, 
with   a  cross,  and  the  quarters  to  graze,  being  kept 
shorn,   but  not  too  near   shorn.     The  row  of  return 
on  the  banquet  side,  let  it  be  all  stately  galleries  ;  in 
which  galleries  let  there  be  three,  or  five,  fine  cupo- 
las, in  the  length  of  it,  placed  at  equal  distance;  and 
fine   coloured  windows    of   several    works.     On  the 
houshold  side,  chambers  of  presence,  and  ordinary 
entertainments,  with  some  bed-chambers;  and  let  all 
three    sides  be    a    double  house,  without   thorough 
Ijghts  on  the  sides,  that  you  may  have  rooms  from  the 
sun,  both  for  forenoon  and  afternoon.     Cast  it  also, 
that  you  may  have  rooms  both  for  summer  and  winter; 
shady  for  summer,  and  warm  for  winter.     You  shall 
have  sometimes  fair  houses  so  full  of  glass,  that  one 
cannot  tell  where  to  become  to  be  out  of  the  ,sun  or 
cold.     For  imbowed  windows,  I  hold  them  of  good 
use  (in  cities,  indeed,  upright  do  better,  in  respect  of 
the  uniformity  towards  the  street),  for  they  be  pretty 
retiring  places  for  conference  ;  and  besides,  they  keep 
both  the  wind  and  sun  off;  for  that  which  would* 

362  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

strike  almost  through  the  room,  doth  scarce  pass  the 
window.  But  let  them  be  but  few,  four  in  the  court, 
on  the  sides  only. 

Beyond  this  court,  let  there  be  an  inward  court,  of 
the  same  square  and  height,  which  is  to  be  environed 
with  the  garden  on  all  sides:  and  in  the  inside,  clois- 
tered on  all  sides  upon  decent  and  beautiful  arches,  as 
high  as  the  first  story  :  on  the  under  story,  towards  the 
garden,  let  it  be  turned  to  a  grotto,  or  place  of  shade 
or  estivation :  and  only  have  opening  and  windows 
towards  the  garden,  and  be  level  upon  the  floor,  no 
whit  sunk  under  ground,  to  avoid  all  dampishness. 
And  let  there  be  a  fountain,  or  some  fair  work  of  sta- 
tues, in  the  midst  of  this  court;  and  to  be  paved  as 
the  other  court  was.  These  buildings  to  be  for  privy 
lodgings  on  both  sides,  and  the  end  for  privy  galle- 
ries:  whereof  you  must  foresee,  that  one  of  them  be 
for  an  infirmary,  if  the  prince  or  any  special  person 
should  be  sick,  with  chambers,  bed-chamber,  anteca- 
inera  and  recamera,  joining  to  it.  This  upon  the  se- 
cond story.  Upon  the  ground-story,  a  fair  gallery, 
open,,  upon  pillars;  and  upon  the  third  story,  likewise, 
an  open  gallery,  upon  pillars,  to  take  the  prospect 
and  freshness  of  the  garden.  At  both  corners  of  the 
farther  side,  by  way  of  return,  let  there  be  two  deli- 
cate or  rich  cabinets,  daintily  paved,  richly  hanged, 
glazed  with  crystalline  glass,  arid  a  rich  cupola  in  the 
midst ;  and  all  other  elegancy  that  may  be  thought 
upon.  In  the  upper  gallery  too,  I  wish  that  there 
may  be,  if  the  place  will  yield  it,  some  fountains  run- 
ning in  divers  places  from  the  wall,  with  some  fine 
avoidances.  And  thus  much  for  the  model  of  the  pa- 
lace ;  save  that  you  must  have,  before  you  come  to 
the  front,  three  courts  :  a  green  court  plain,  with  a 
wall  about  it :  a  second  court  of  the  same,  but  more 
garnished,  with  little  turrets,  or  rather  embellishments 
upon  the  wall ;  and  a  third  court,  to  make  a  square  with 
the  front,  but  not  to  be  built,  nor  yet  inclosed  with  a 
naked  wall,  but  inclosed  with  terraces,  leaded  aloft, 
and  fairly  garnished  on  the  three  sides;  and  cloistered 
on  the  inside  with  pillars,  and  not  with  arches  below. 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral  363 

AST  for  offices,  let  them  stand  at  distance*  with  some 
low  galleries  to  pass  from  them  to  the  palace  itself. 

XLVI.      Of  GARDENS. 

GOD  Almighty  first  planted  a  garden  :  and  indeed 
it  is  the  purest  of  human  pleasures.     It  is  the  greatest 
refreshment  to   the  spirits  of  man  ;  without  which, 
buildings  and  palaces  are  but  gross  handy-works  :  and 
a  man  shall  ever  see,  that  when  ages  grow  to  civility 
and  elegancy,  men  come  to  build  stately,  sooner  than 
to  garden  finely ;  as   if  gardening  were   the  greater 
perfection.     I  do  hold  it  in  the  royal  ordering  of  gar- 
dens, there  ought  to  be  gardens  for  all  the  months  in 
the  year:  in    which  severally,  things  of  beauty  may 
be  then  in  season.     For  December  and  January,  and 
the  latter   part   of  November,   you  must  take  such 
things    as  are    green  all  winter;  holly;  ivy;  bays; 
juniper;  cypress-trees;  yew;    pine-apple    trees;    fir- 
trees  ;  rosemary ;  lavender ;   periwinkle,    the   white, 
the  purple,  and  the  blue;  germander  ;  flags  ;  orange- 
trees  ;  lemon-trees ;  and  myrtles,   if  they   be  stoved ; 
and  sweet  marjoram,  warm  set.     There  folio weth,  for 
the  latter  part  of  January  and  February,  the  mezereon 
tree,  which  then    blossoms  ;  crocus  vernus,  both  the 
yellow  and  the  gray;  primroses  ;anemonies;  the  early 
tulip;    hyacinthus    orientalist    chamdiris  ;  fritdlaria. 
For  March  there  come  violets,    especially  the  single 
blue,  which  are  the  earliest ;  the  yellow  daffodil ;  the 
daisy ;  the  almond-tree  in  blossom ;  the  peach  tree  in. 
blossom  ;   the  cornelian-tree  in  blossom  ;  sweet  briar. 
In  April    follow  the  double  white  violet ;  the  wall- 
flower ;  the  stQck-gilliflower ;    the  cowslip;   flower- 
de-luces  ;  and  lilies  of  all  natures ;  rosemary-flowers ; 
the  tulip ;  the  double   piony  ;  the  pale  daffodil;  the 
French  honeysuckle ;  the  cherry-tree  in  blossom ;  the 
damascene  and  plumb-trees  in  blossom  ;  the  white- 
thorn  in   leaf;   the  lilach-tree.     In  May  and  June 
come  pinks  of  all   sorts ;  especially  the    blush-pink  ; 
roses  of  all  kinds,   except  the  musk,    which  comes 
later  ;  honey-suckles ;  strawberries  ;  bugloss  ;  colum- 
bine 3  the   French  marygold;  flos  Africanus  >  cherry- 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

tree  in  fruit ;  ribes;  figs  in  fruit ;  rasps ;  vine-flowers ;  la- 
vender in  flowers;  the  sweet  satyrian,  with  the  white 
flower ;  herba  muscaria;  lilium  convallium  ;  the  apple- 
tree  in  blossom.  In  July  come  gilliflowers  of  all  va- 
rieties; musk  roses;  the  lime-tree  in  blossom  ;  early 
pears  and  plums  in  fruit,  gennitings,  codlins.  In 
August  come  plumbs  of  all  sorts  in  fruit;  pears,  apri- 
cots, berberries,  filberds,  muskmelons,  monks-hoods  of 
all  colours.  In  September  come  grapes,  apples,  pop- 
pies of  all  colours,  peaches,  mclo  cotones,  nectarines, 
cornelians,  wardens,  quinces.  In  October,  and  the 
beginning  of  November,  come  services,  medlars,  bul- 
laces,  roses  cut  or  removed  to  come  late,  hollyoaks, 
and  such  like.  These  particulars  are  for  the  climate 
of  London :  but  my  meaning  is  perceived,  that  you 
may  have  ver  perpetuitm,  as  the  place  affords. 

And  because  the  breath  of  flowers  is  far  sweeter  irt 
the  air,  where  it   comes  and  goes,  like  the  warbling 
of  music,  than  in  the  hand,  therefore  nothing  is  more 
fit  for  that  delight  than  to  know  what  be  the  flowers 
and  plants  that  do  best  perfume  the  air.     Roses,  da- 
mask and  red,  are  fast  flowers  of  their  smells  ;  so  that 
you  may  walk  by  a  whole   row    of  them  and  find  no- 
thing of  their  sweetness  :  yea,  though  it  be  in  a  morn- 
ing's dew.     Bays    likewise  yield  no  smell,    as    they 
grow;  rosemary,  little  ;  nor  sweet  marjoram.     That 
which  above  all  others  yields  the  sweetest  smell  in  the 
air,  is  the  violet;  especially  the  white  double  violet, 
which  comes  twice  a  year ;  about  the  middle  of  April, 
and  about  Bartholomew-tide.     Next  to  that  is    the 
musk-rose;  then  the  strawberry-leaves  dying,  with  a 
most  excellent  cordial  smell;  then  the  flower  of  the 
vines ;  it  is  a  little  dust,  like  the  dust  of  a  bent,  which 
grows  upon  the  cluster,  in  the  first  coming  forth  ;then 
sweet-brier:  then  wall-flowers,  which   are  very  de- 
lightful, to  be  set  under  a  parlour,  or  lower  chamber 
window;  then  pinks  and  gilliflowers,    especially  the 
rnatted  pink,  and  clove  gilliflower  ;  then   the   flowers 
of  the  lime-tree  ;.  then   the  honey-suckles,  so  they  be 
somewhat   afar  off.     Of  bean -flowers  I   speak    not, 
Because  they  are  field-flowers ;  but  those  'which  per- 

Essays,  Civ  Hand  Moral.  365 

fume  the  air  most  delightfully,  not  passed"  t'y  as  the 
rest,  but  being  trodden  upon  and  crushed,  are  three; 
that  is,  burnet,  wild  thyme,  and  water  mints.  There- 
fore you  are  to  set  whole  alleys  of  them,  to  have  the 
pleasure  when  you  walk  or  tread. 

For  gardens,  speaking  of  those  which  are  indeed 
prince-like,  as  we  have  done  of  buildings,  the  con- 
tents ought  not  well  to  be  under  thirty  acres  of 
ground,  and  to  be  divided  into  three  parts:  a  green 
in  the  entrance  ;  a  heath  or  desert  in  the  going  forth  ; 
and  the  main  garden  in  the  midst;  besides  alleys  on 
both  sides.  And  I  like  well,  that  four  acres  of  ground 
be  assigned  to  the  green,  six  to  the  heath,  four  and 
four  to  either  side,  and  twelve  to  the  main  garden. 
The  green  hath  two  pleasures ;  the  one,  because  no- 
thing is  more  pleasant  to  the  eye  than  green  grass  kept 
finely  shorn ;  the  other,  because  it  will  give  you  a 
fair  alley  in  the  midst ;  by  which  you  may  go  in  front 
upon  a  stately  hedge,  which  is  to  inclose  the  garden. 
But  because  the  alley  will  be  long,  and  in  great  heat 
of  the  year  or  day,  you  ought  not  to  buy  the  shade  in 
the  garden  by  going  in  the  sun  through  the  green ; 
therefore  you  are,  of  either  side  the  green,  to  plant  a 
covert  alley,  upon  carpenters  work,  about  twelve  foot 
in  height,  by  which  you  may  go  in  shade  into  the 
garden.  As  for  the  making  of  knots  or  figures,  with 
divers  coloured  earths,  that  they  may  lie  under  the 
windows  of  the  house,  on  that  side  which  the  garden 
stands,  they  be  but  toys;  you  may  see  as  good  sights, 
many  times,  in  tarts.  The  garden  is  best  to  be 
square,  encompassed  on  all  the  four  sides  with  a 
stately  arched  hedge  :  the  arches  to  be  upon  pillars  of 
carpenters  work,  of  some  ten  foot  high,  and  six  foot 
broad;  and  the  spaces  between  of  the  same  dimension 
with  the  breadth  of  the  arch.  Over  the  arches  let 
there  be  an  entire  hedge,  of  some  four  foot  high, 
framed  also  upon  carpenters  work;  and  upon  the 
upper  hedge,  over  every  arch,  a  little  turret,  with  a 
belly  enough  to  receive  a  cage  of  birds ;  and  over 
every  space  between  the  arches,  some  other  little 
figure,  with  broad  plates  of  round  coloured .  glass, 

366  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

gilt,  for  the  sun  to  play  upon.  But  this  hedge  I  in- 
tend to  be  raised  upon  a  bank,  not  steep,  but  gently 
slope,  of  some  six  foot,  set  all  with  flowers.  Also  I 
understand,  that  this  square  of  the  garden  should  not 
be  the  whole  breadth  of  the  ground,  but  to  leave  on 
either  side  ground  enough  for  diversity  of  side-alleys  ; 
unto  which  the  two  covert  alleys  of  the  green  may 
deliver  you :  but  there  must  be  no  alleys  with  hedges 
at  either  end  of  this  great  inclosure  ;  not  at  the  hither 
end,  for  letting  your  prospect  upon  the  fair  hedge 
from  the  green  ;  nor  at  the  further  end,  for  letting 
your  prospect  from  the  hedge,  through  the  arches, 
upon  the  heath. 

For  the  ordering  of  the  ground  within  the  great 
hedge.  I  leave  it  to  variety  of  device  ;  advising 
nevertheless,  that  whatsoever  form  you  cast  it  into, 
first  it  be  not  too  busy,  or  full  of  work :  wherein  I,  for 
my  part,  do  not  like  images  cut  out  in  juniper  or 
other  garden  stuff;  they  be  for  children.  Little  low 
hedges  round,  like  welts,  with  some  pretty  pyramids, 
I  like  well ;  and  in  some  places,  fair  columns  upon 
frames  of  carpenter's  work.  I  would  also  have  the 
alleys  spacious  and  fair.  You  may  have  closer 
alleys  upon  the  side  grounds,  but  none  in  the  main 
garden.  I  wish  also,  in  the  very  middle,  a  fair 
mount,  with  the  three  ascents  and  alleys,  enough  for 
four  to  walk  a-breast;  which  I  would  have  to  be  per- 
fect circles,  without  any  bulwarks  or  embossments; 
and  the  whole  mount  to  be  thirty  foot  high  ;  and 
some  fine  banqueting  house,  with  some  chimneys 
neatly-  cast,  and  without  too  much  glass. 

For  fountains,  they  are  a  great  beauty  and  refresh- 
ment ;  but  pools  mar  all,  and  make  the  garden  un- 
wholesome, and  full  of  flies  and  frogs.  Fountains  I 
intend  to  be  of  two  natures  :  the  one  that  sprinkleth 
or  spouteth  water,  the  other  a  fair  receipt  of  water, 
of  some  thirty  or  forty  foot  square,  but  without 
fish,  or  slime,  or  mud.  For  the  first,  the  ornaments 
of  images  gilt,  or  of  marble,  which  are  in  use,  do 
well :  but  the  main  matter  is  so  to  convey  the 
water,  as  it  never  stay  either  in  the  bowls,  or  in  the 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  367 

cistern ;  that  the  water  be  never  by  rest  discoloured, 
green  or  red,  or  the  like  ;  or  gather  any  mossiness 
or  putrefaction.  Besides  that,  it  is  to  be  cleansed 
every  day  by  the  hand.  Also  some  steps  up  to  it, 
and  some  fine  pavement  about  it  doth  well.  As  for 
the  Qther  kind  of  fountain,  which  we  may  call  a 
bathing  pool,  it  may  admit  much  curiosity  and 
beauty,  wherewith  we  will  not  trouble  ourselves  ;  as 
that  the  bottom  be  finely  paved,  and  with  images ; 
the  sides  likewise  ;  and  withal  embellished  with 
coloured  glass,  and  such  things  of  lustre  ;  encom- 
passed also  with  fine  rails  of  low  statues.  But  the 
main  point  is  the  same  which  we  mentioned  in  the 
former  kind  of  fountain  ;  which  is,  that  the  water  be 
in  perpetual  motion,  fed  by  a  water  higher  than  the 
pool,  and  deli-vered  into  it  by  fair  spouts,  and  then 
discharged  avvay  under  ground  by  some  equality  of 
bores,  that  it  stay  little.  And  for  fine  devices  of 
arching  water  without  spilling,  and  making  it  rise  in 
several  forms,  of  feathers,  drinking-glasses,  canopies, 
and  the  like,  they  be  pretty  things  to  look  on,  but 
nothing  to  health  and  sweetness. 

For  the  heath,  which  was  the  third  part  of  our 
plot,  I  wish  it  to  be  framed  as  much  as  may  be  to 
a  natural  wildness.  Trees  I  would  have  none  in  it, 
but  some  thickets  made  only  of  sweet-brier  and 
honey-suckle,  and  some  wild  vine  amongst ;  and  the 
ground  set  with  violets,  strawberries,  and  primroses. 
For  these  are  sweet  and  prosper  in  the  shade.  And 
these  to  be  in  the  heath  here  and  there,  not  in  any 
order.  I  like  also  little  heaps,  in  the  nature  of  mole- 
hills, such  as  are  in  wild  heaths,  to  be  set,  some  with 
wild  thyme,  some  with  pinks,  some  with  germander, 
that  gives  a  good  flower  to  the  eye,  some  with  peri- 
winkle, some  with  violets,  some  with  strawberries, 
some  with  cowslips,  some  with  daisies,  some  with  red 
roses,  some  with  lilium  coiwallhtm,  some  with  sweet- 
williams  red,  some  with  bearsfoot,  and  the  like  low 
flowers,  being  withal  sweet  and  sightly.  Part  of 
which  Jieaps  to  be  with  standards  of  little  bushes, 
prickt  upon  their  top,  and  part  without.  The 

368  Essays,  Civil  and  Monti. 

standards  to  be  roses,  juniper,  holly,  berberries,  but 
here  and  there,  because  of  the  smell  of  their  blossom, 
red  currants,  gooseberries,  rosemary,  bays,  sweet- 
briar,  and  such  like.  But  these  standards  to  be  kept 
with  cutting,  that  they  gro'w  not  out  of  course. 

For  the  side  grounds,  you  are  to  fill  them  with  va- 
riety of  alleys,  private,  to  give  a  full  shade,  some 
ot  them,  wheresoever  the  sun  be.  You  are  to  frame 
some  of  them  likewise  for  shelter,  that  when  the 
wind  blows  sharp,  you  may  walk  as  in  a  gallery. 
And  those  alleys  must  be  likewise  hedged  at  both 
ends,  to  keep  out  the  wind ;  and  these  closer  alleys 
must  be  ever  finely  gravelled,  and  no  grass,  because 
of  growing  wet.  In  many  of  these  alleys  likewise; 
you  are  to  set  fruit  trees  of  all  sorts  ;  as  well  upon 
the  walls  as  in  ranges.  And  this  should  be  generally 
observed,  that  the  borders  wherein  you  plant  your 
fruit-trees,  be  fair  and  large,  and  low,  and  not  steep ; 
and  set  with  fine  flowers,  but  thin  and  sparingly,  lest 
they  deceive  the  trees.  At  the  end  of  both  the  side 
grounds,  I  would  have  a  mount  of  some  pretty  height, 
leaving  the  wall  of  the  inclosure  breast  high,  to  look 
abroad  into  the  fields. 

For  the  main  garden,  I  do  not  deny  but  there 
should  be  some  fair  alleys,  ranged  on  both  sides,  with 
fruit-trees,  and  some  pretty  tufts  of  fruit-trees,  and 
arbours  with  seats,  set  in  some  decent  order  ;  but 
these  to  be  by  no  means  set  too  thick,  but  to  leave  the 
main  garden  so  as  it  be  not  close,  but  the  air  open 
and  free.  Eor  as  for  shade,  I  would  have  you  rest 
upon  the  alleys  of  the  side  grounds,  there  to  walk, 
if  you  be  disposed,  in  the  heat  of  the  year  or  day  ;  but 
to  make  account,  that  the  main  garden  is  for  the 
more  temperate  parts  of  the  year;  and  in  the  heat  of 
summer,  for  the  morning  and  the  evening,  or  over- 
cast days. 

For  aviaries,  I  like  them  not,  except  they  be  of  that 
largeness,  as  they  may  be  turfed,  and  have  living 
plants  and  bushes  set  in  them;  that  the  birds  may 
have  more  scope,  and  natural  nestling,  and  that  no 
foulness  appear  in  the  floor  of  the  aviary. 

Essays,  Civil  and  MofaL 

So  I  have  made  a  platform  of  a  princely  garden, 
partly  by  precept,  partly  by  drawing ;  not  a  model, 
but  some  general  lines  of  it ;  and  in  this  I  have 
spared  for  no  cost.  But  it  is  nothing  for  great  princes, 
that  for  the  most  part,  taking  advice  with  workmen, 
with  no  less  cost  set  their  things  together ;  and  some- 
times add  statues,  and  such  things,  for  state  and  mag- 
nificence, but  nothing  to  the  true  pleasure  of  a 


IT  is  generally  better  to  deal  by  speech,  than  by 
letter ;  and  by  the  mediation  of  a  third,  than  by  a 
man's  self*     Letters  are   good,  when  a  man  would 
draw  an  answer  by  letter  back  again  ;  or  when  it 
may  serve  for  a  man's  justification,  afterwards  to  pro- 
duce his  own  letter  •  or  where  it  may  be  danger  to  be 
interrupted,  or  heard  by  pieces*     To  deal  in  person 
is  good,  when  a  man's  face  breedeth  regard,  as  com- 
monly with  inferiors  ;  or  in  tender  cases,   where  a 
man's  eye  upon  the  countenance  of  him  with  whom 
he  speaketh,  may  give  him  a  direction  how  far  to 
go  :  and  generally  where  a  man  will  reserve  to  him- 
self liberty,  either  to  disavow   or  to  expound*     In 
choice  of  instruments,  it  is  better  to  choose  men  of  a 
plainer  sort,  that  are  like    to  do    that  that  is  com- 
mitted to  them,  and  to  report  back  again  faithfully 
the  success  -,  than  those  that  are  cunning  to  contrive 
out  of  other  men's  business  somewhat  to  grace  them- 
selves, and  will  help  the  matter  in  report,  for  satisfac- 
tion sake.     Use  also  such  persons  as  affect  the  busi- 
ness wherein  they  are  employed,  for  that  quickeneth 
much ;  and  such  as  are  fit  for  the  matter ;   as  bold 
men  for  expostulation,  fair-spoken  men  for  persuasion, 
crafty  men  for  inquiry  and  observation,  froward  and 
absurd  men  for  business  that  doth  not  well  bear  out 
itself.     Use  also  such  as  have  been  lucky,  and  pre- 
vailed before  in  things  wherein  you  have  employed 
them  ;  for  that  breeds  confidence,  and  they  will  strive 
to  maintain  their  prescription.     It  is  better  to  sound 
a  person  with  whom  one  deals,  afar  off,  than  to  fall 

VOL.  II.  E  B 

370  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

upon  the  point  at  first ;  except  you  mean  to  surprise 
him  by  some  short  question.  It  is  better  dealing  with 
men  in  appetite,  than  with  those  that  are  where  they 
would  be.     If  a  man  deal  with  another  upon  con- 
ditions, the  start  or  first  performance  is  all ;  which  a 
man  cannot  reasonably  demand,  except  either  the 
nature  of  the  thing  be  such  which  must  go  before  ; 
or  else  a  man  can  persuade  the  other  party,  that  he 
shall  still  need  him  in  some  other  thing ;  or  else  that 
he  be  counted  the  honester  man.     All  practice  is  to 
discover,  or  to  work.     Men  discover  themselves  in 
trust,  in  passion,  at  unawares,  and  of  necessity,  when 
they  would  have  somewhat  done,  and  cannot  find  an 
apt  pretext.     If  you  would  work  any  man,  you  must 
either  know  his  nature   and   fashions,  and  so  lead 
him  ;  or  his  ends,  and  so  persuade  him  ;  or  his  weak- 
ness and  disadvantages,  and  so  awe  him ;  or  those 
that  have  interest  in  him,  and  so  govern  him.     In 
dealing  with  cunning  persons,  we   must    ever  con- 
sider their  ends  to  interpret  their  speeches ;  and  it  is 
good  to  say  little  to  them,  and  that  which  they  least 
look  for.      In  all   negotiations  of  difficulty,  a   man 
may  not  look  to  sow  and  reap  at  once  ;  but   must 
prepare  business,  and  so  ripen  it  by  degrees. 

COSTLY  followers  are  not  to  be  liked;  lest  while 
a  man  maketh  his  train  longer,  he  make  his  wings 
shorter.  I  reckon  to  be  costly,  not  them  alone  which 
charge  the  purse,  but  which  are  wearisom  and  im- 
portune in  suits.  Ordinary  followers  ought  to  chal- 
lenge no  higher  conditions  than  countenance,  recom- 
mendation, and  protection  from  wrongs.  Factious 
followers  are  worse  to  be  liked,  which  follow  not 
upon  affection  to  him  with  whom  they  range  them- 
selves, but  upon  discontentment  conceived  against 
some  other :  whereupon  commonly  ensueth  that  ill 
intelligence  that  we  many  times  see  between  great 
personages.  Likewise  glorious  followers,  who  make 
themselves  as  trumpets  of  the  commendation  of  those 
they  follow,  are  full  of  inconvenience;  for  they  taint 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  371 

business  through  want  of  secrecy  >  and  they  export 
honour  from  a  man,  and  make  him  a  return  in  envy. 
There  is  a  kind  of  followers  likewise,  which  are  dan- 
gerous,  being  indeed  espials;  which  inquire  the 
secrets  of  the  house,  and  bear  tales  of  them  to  others. 
Vet  such  men  many  times  are  in  great  favour ;  for 
they  are  officious,  and  commonly  exchange  tales.  The 
following  by  certain  estates  of  men  answerable  to 
that  which  a  great  person  himself  professeth,  as  of 
soldiers  to  him  that  hath  been  employed  in  the  wars, 
and  the  like,  hath  ever  been  a  thing  civil,  and  well 
taken  even  in  monarchies  ;  so  it  be  without  too  much 
pomp  or  popularity.  But  the  most  honourable  kind 
of  following,  is  to  be  followed  as  one  that  appre- 
hendeth  to  advance  virtue  and  desert  in  all  sorts  of 
persons.  And  yet  where  there  is  no  eminent  odds  in 
sufficiency,  it  is  better  to  take  with  the  more  passable 
than  with  the  more  able.  And  besides,  to  speak 
truth,  in  base  times  active  men  are  of  more  use  than 
virtuous.  It  is  true,  that  in  government,  it  is  good  to 
use  men  of  one  rank  equally  :  for  to  countenance 
some  extraordinarily,  is  to  make  them  insolent,  and 
the  rest  discontent;  because  they  may  claim  a  due. 
But  contrariwise  in  favour,  to  use  men  with  much 
difference  and  election  is  good  -9  for  it  maketh  the 
persons  preferred  more  thankful,  and  the  rest  more 
officious  ;  because  all  is  of  favour.  It  is  good  discre- 
tion not  to  make  too  much  of  any  man  at  the  first ; 
because  one  cannot  hold  out  that  proportion.  To  be 
governed,  as  we  call  it,  by  one,  is  not  safe  ;  for  it 
shews  softness,  and  gives  a  freedom  to  scandal  and 
disreputation ;  for  those  that  would  not  censure,  or 
speak  ill  of  a  man  immediately,  will  talk  more  boldly 
of  those  that  are  so  great  with  them,  and  thereby 
wound  their  honour.  Yet  to  be  distracted  with 
many,  is  worse ;  for  it  makes  men  to  be  of  the  last 
impression,  and  full  of  change.  To  take  advice  of 
some  few  friends  is  ever  honourable  ;  for  lookers-on 
many  times  see  more  than  gamesters  ;  and  the  vale 
best  discovereth  the  hill.  There  is  little  friendship  in 
the  world,  and  least  of  all  between  equals,  which  was 

B  B  2 

372  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral 

wont  to  be  magnified.  That  that  is,  is  between  su- 
perior and  inferior,  whose  fortunes  may  comprehend 
the  one  the  other. 


MANY  ill  matters  and  projects  are  undertaken ; 
and  private  suits  do  putrify  the  public  good.  Many 
good  matters  are  undertaken  with  bad  minds ;  I  mean 
not  only  corrupt  minds,  but  crafty  minds,  that  intend 
not  performance.  Some  embrace  suits,  which  never 
mean  to  deal  effectually  in  them  ;  but  if  they  see  there 
may  be  life  in  the  matter  by  some  other  mean,  they 
will  be  content  to  win  a  thank,  or  take  a  second  re- 
ward, or  at  least  to  make  use  in  the  mean  time  of  the 
suitor's  hopes.  Some  take  hold  of  suits,  only  for  an 
occasion  to  cross  some  other,  or  to  make  an  informa- 
tion, whereof  they  could  not  otherwise  have  apt  pre- 
text; without  care  what  become  of  the  suit  when 
that  turn  is  served  :  or  generally,  to  make  other  men's 
business  a  kind  of  entertainment  to  bring  in  their 
own.  Nay,  some  undertake  suits,  with  a  full  purpose 
to  let  them  fall  ;  to  the  end  to  gratify  the  adverse 
party  or  competitor.  Surely  there  is  in  some  sort  a 
right  in  every  suit ;  either  a  right  of  equity,  if  it  be 
a  suit  of  controversy  ;  or  a  right  of  desert,  if  it  be  a 
suit  of  petition.  If  affection  lead  a  man  to  favour  the 
wrong  side  in  justice,  let  him  rather  use  his  counte- 
nance to  compound  the  matter  than  to  carry  it.  If 
affection  lead  a  man  to  favour  the  less  worthy  in 
desert,  let  him  do  it  without  depraving  or  disabling 
the  better  deserver.  In  suits  which  a  man  doth  not 
well  understand,  it  is  good  to  refer  them  to  some 
friend  of  trust  and  judgment,  that  may  report  whether 
he  may  deal  in  them  with  honour;  but  let  him 
choose  well  his  referendaries,  for  else  he  may  be  led 
by  the  nose.  Suitors  are  so  distasted  with  delays  and 
abuses,  that  plain  dealing  in  denying  to  deal  in  suits 
at  first,  and  reporting  the  success  barely,  and  in  chal- 
lenging no  more  thanks  than  one  hath  deserved,  is 
grown  not  only  honourable,  but  also  gracious."  In 
suits  of  favour,  the  first  coming  ought  to  take  little 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  373 

place  ;  so  far  forth  consideration  may  be  had  of  his 
trust,   that,  if  intelligence  of  the   matter  could  not 
otherwise  have  been  had  but  by  him,  advantage  be 
not  taken  of  the  note,  but  the  party  left  to  his  other 
means,  and  in   some   sort  recompensed   for  his  dis- 
covery.    To   be   ignorant   of  the  value  of  a  suit,  is 
simplicity ;  as  well   as  to   be  ignorant  of  the    right 
thereof,  is  want  of  conscience.     Secrecy  in  suits  is  a 
great  mean  of  obtaining;  for  voicing  them  to  be  in 
forwardness,  may  discourage  some  kind  of  suitors ; 
.but  doth  quicken  and  awake  others,     But  timing  of 
the  suit  is  the  principal :  timing,  I  say,  not  only  in 
respect  of  the   person   that  should    grant   it,  but  in 
respect  of  those  which   are  like  to  cross  it.     Let  a 
man,  in  the  choice  of  his  mean,  rather  choose  the 
fittest  mean  than  the  greatest  mean  :  and  rather  them 
that   deal   in   certain  things  than  those  that  are  ge- 
neral.    The  reparation  of  a  denial  is  sometimes  equal 
to  the  first  grant;  if  a  man  shew  himself  neither  de- 
jected   nor    discontented.     Iniquum  petas,  ut  cequum 
feras ;   is  a  good  rule,  where  a  man  hath  strength  of 
favour ;  but  otherwise  a  man  were  better  rise  in  his 
suit ;  for  he  that  would  have  ventured  at  first  to  have 
lost  the  suitor,  will  not  in  the  conclusion  lose  both 
the  suitor  and  his  own  former  favour.     Nothing  is 
thought  so   easy  a  request  to  a  great  person,  as  his 
letter ;  and  yet,  if  it    be  not  in  a  good   cause,  it  is 
so  much  out  of  his  reputation.     There  are  no  worse 
instruments  than  these  general  contrivers  of  suits;  for 
they  are  but  a  kind  of  poison  and  infection  to  public 

L.     Of  STUDIES. 

STUDIES  serve  for  delight,  for  ornament,  and  for 
ability.  Their  chief  use  for  delight,  is  in  privateness 
and  retiring;  for  ornament,  is  in  discourse;  and  for 
ability,  is  m  the  judgment  and  disposition  of  business. 
For  expert  men  can  execute,  and  perhaps  judge  of 
particulars,  one  by  one  ;  but  the  general  counsels,  and 
the  plots  and  marshalling  of  affairs,  come  best  from 
those  that  are  learned.  To  spend  too  much  time  in 

374  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

studies,  is  sloth  :  to  use  them  too  much  for  ornament, 
is  affectation  ;  to  make  judgment  only  by  their  rules, 
is  the  humour  of  a  scholar.  They  perfect  nature,  and 
are  perfected  by  experience :  for  natural  abilities  are 
like  natural  plants,  that  need  pruning  by  study  ;  and 
studies  themselves  do  give  forth  directions  too  much 
at  large,  except  they  be  bounded  in  by  experience. 
Crafty  men  contemn  studies;  simple  men  admire 
them  ;  and  wise  men  use  them:  for  they  teach  not  their 
own  use  :  but  that  is  a  wisdom  without  them,  and 
above  them,  won  by  observation.  Read  not  to  con- 
tradict and  confute ;  nor  to  believe  and  take  for  grant' 
ed ;  nor  to  find  talk  and  discourse  ;  but  to  weigh  and 
consider.  Some  books  are  to  be  tasted,  others  to  be 
swallowed,  and  some  few  to  be  chewed  and  digested  : 
that  is,  some  books  are  to  be  read  only  in  parts  ; 
others  to  be  read,  but  not  curiously ;  and  some  few 
to  be  read  wholly,  and  with  diligence  and  attention. 
Some  books  also  may  be  read  by  deputy,  and  extracts 
made  of  them  by  others  ;  but  that  would  be  only  in 
the  less  important  arguments,  and  the  meaner  sort  of 
books  :  else  distilled  books  are  like  common  distilled 
waters,  flashy  things.  Reading  maketh  a  full  man  ; 
conference  a  ready  man  :  and  writing  an  exact  man. 
And  therefore  if  a  man  write  little,  he  had  need  have 
a  great  memory  :  if  he  confer  little,  he  had  need 
have  a  present  wit ;  and  if  he  read  little,  he  had  need 
have  much  cunning,  to  seem  to  know  that  he  doth 
not.  Histories  make  men  wise;  poets,  witty;  the 
mathematics,  subtile;  natural  philosophy,  deep; 
moral,  grave ;  logic  and  rhetoric,  able  to  contend  : 
Abeunt  studia  in  mores.  Nay,  there  is  no  stond  or 
impediment  in  the  wit,  but  may  be  wrought  out  by 
fit  studies  ;  like  as  diseases  of  the  body  may  have  ap- 
propriated exercises :  bowling  is  good  tor  the  stone 
and  reins  ;  shooting  for  the  lungs  and  breast;  gentle 
walking  for  the  stomach  ;  riding  for  the  head ;  and 
the  like.  So  if  a  man's  wit  be  wandering,  let  him 
study  the  mathematics  ;  for  in  demonstrations,  if  his 
wit  be  called  away  never  so  little,  he  must  begin 
again  :  if  his  wit  be  not  apt  to  distinguish  or  find  dif- 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  375 

ferences,  let  him  study  the  schoolmen ;  for  they  are 
cymini  sectores :  if  he  be  not  apt  to  beat  over  mat- 
ters, and  to  call  up  one  thing  to  prove  and  illustrate 
another,  let  him  study  the  lawyers  cases :  so  every 
defect  of  the  mind  may  have  a  special  receipt. 

LI.     Of  FACTION. 

A1ANY  have  an  opinion  not  wise ;  that  for  a  prince 
to  govern  his  estate,  or  for  a  great  person  to  govern 
his  proceedings,  according  to  the  respect  of  factions, 
is  a  principal  part  of  policy  ;  whereas,  contrariwise, 
the  chiefest  wisdom  is,  either  in  ordering  those  things 
which  are  general,  and  wherein  men  of  several  fac- 
tions do  nevertheless  agree,  or  in  dealing  with  cor- 
respondence to  particular  persons,  one  by  one.  But 
I  say  not,  that  the  consideration  of  factions  is  to  be 
neglected.  Mean  men,  in  their  rising,  must  adhere; 
but  great  men,  that  have  strength  in  themselves,  were 
better  to  maintain  themselves  indifferent  and  neutral. 
Yet  even  in  beginners,  to  adhere  so  moderately,  as 
he  be  a  man  of  the  one  faction,  which  is  most  passible 
with  the  other,  commonly  giveth  best  way.  The 
lower  and  weaker  faction  is  the  firmer  in  conjunction : 
and  it  is  often  seen,  that  a  few  that  are  stiff  do  tire 
out  a  greater  number  that  are  more  moderate.  When 
one  of  the  factions  is  extinguished,  the  remaining 
subdivideth  :  as  the  faction  between  Lucullus  and  the 
rest  of  the  nobles  of  the  senate,  which  they  called  opti- 
mates,  held  out  a  while  against  the  faction  of  Pompey 
and  Caesar :  but  when  the  senate's  authority  was  pull- 
ed down,  Caesar  and  Pompey  soon  after  brake.  The 
faction  or  party  of  Antonius  and  Octavianus  Caesar, 
against  Brutus  and  Cassius,  held  out  likewise  for  a 
time  :  but  when  Brutus  and  Cassius  were  overthrown, 
then  soon  after  Antonius  and  Octavianus  brake  and 
subdivided.  These  examples  are  of  wars,  but  the 
same  holdeth  in  private  factions.  And  therefore  those 
that  are  seconds  in  factions,  do  many  times,  when  the 
faction  subdivideth,  prove  principals:  but  many  times 
also  they  prove  cyphers  and  cashiered;  for  many  a 
man's  strength  is  in  opposition;  and  when  thatfaileth 

376  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

he  groweth  out  of  use.  It  is  commonly  seen,  that 
men  once  placed,  take  in  with  the  contrary  faction  to 
that  by  which  they  enter ;  thinking  belike  that  they 
have  the  first  sure,  and  now  are  ready  for  a  new  pur- 
chase. The  traitor  in  faction  lightly  goeth  away  with 
it :  for  when  matters  have  stuck  long  in  balancing,  the 
winning  of  some  one  man  casteth  them,  and  he  get- 
teth  all  the  thanks.  The  even  carriage  between  two 
factions,  proceedeth  not  always  of  moderation,  but  of 
a  trueness  to  a  man's  self,  with  end  to  make  use  of 
both.  Certainly  in  Italy  they  hold  it  a  little  suspect 
in  popes,  when  they  have  often  in  their  mouth  Padre 
commune:  and  take  it  to  be  a  sign  of  one  that  mean- 
eth  to  refer  all  to  the  greatness  of  his  own  house. 
Kings  had  need  beware  how  they  side  themselves, 
and  make  themselves  as  of  a  faction  or  party ;  for 
leagues  within  the  state  are  ever  pernicious  to  monar- 
chies ;  for  they  raise  an  obligation  paramount  to  obli- 
gation of  sovereignty,  and  make  the  king  tanquam 
units  ex  nobis ;  as  was  to  be  seen  in  the  league  of 
France,  When  factions  are  carried  too  high,  and  too 
violently,  it  is  a  sign  of  weakness  in  princes,  and 
much  to  the  prejudice  both  of  their  authority  and  bu^ 
siness.  The  motions  of  factions  under  kings  ought 
to  be  like  the  motions,  as  the  astronomers  speak,  of 
the  inferior  orbs  ;  which  may  have  their  proper  mo- 
tions, but  yet  still  are  quietly  carried  by  the  higher 
motion  of  primum  mobile. 

HE  that  is  only  real,  had  need  have  exceeding 
great  parts  of  virtue  :  as  the  stone  had  need  to  be 
rich,  that  is  set  without  foil :  but  if  a  man  mark  it 
well,  it  is  in  praise  and  commendation  of  men,  as  it  is. 
in  gettings  and  gains.  For  the  proverb  is  true,  that 
light  gains  make  heavy  purses  :  for  light  gains  come 
thick,  whereas  great  come  but  now  and  then.  So  it 
is  true,  that  small  matters  win  great  commendation, 
because  they  are  continually  in  use,  and  in  note  ; 
whereas  the  occasion  of  any  great  virtue  cometh  but 
on  festivals :  therefore  it  doth  much  add  to  a  man's 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  377 

reputation,  and  is,  as  queen  Isabella  said,  like  per- 
petual letters  commendatory,  to  have  good  forms. 
To  attain  them,  it  almost  sufficeth  not  to  despise  them  : 
for  so  shall  a  man  observe  them  in  others  ;  and  let  him 
trust  himself  with  the  rest.  For  if  he  labour  too  much 
to  express  them,  he  shall  lose  their  grace ;  which  is 
to  be  natural  and  unaffected.  Some  mens  behaviour 
is  like  a  verse,  wherein  every  syllable  is  measured  : 
how  can  a  man  comprehend  great  matters,  that  break- 
eth  his  mind  too  much  to  small  observations  ?  Not  to 
use  ceremonies  at  all,  is  to  teach  others  not  to  use 
them  again,  and  sodiminisheth  respect  to  himself;  es- 
pecially they  be  not  to  beornitted  tostrangers  and  for- 
mal natures  ;  but  the  dwelling  upon  them  and  exalt- 
ing them  above  the  moon,  is  not  only  tedious,  but 
cloth  diminish  the  faith  and  credit  of  him  that  speaks. 
And  certainly  there  is  a  kind  of  conveying  of  effectual 
and  imprinting  passages,  amongst  compliments,  which 
is  of  singular  use,  if  a  man  can  hit  upon  it.  Amongst 
a  man's  peers,  a  man  shall  be  sure  of  familiarity;  and 
therefore  it  is  good  a  little  to  keep  state.  Amongst 
a  man's  inferiors  one  shall  be  sure  of  reverence  ;  and 
therefore  it  is  good  a  little  to  be  familiar.  He  that  is 
too  much  in  any  thing,  so  that  he  giveth  another 
occasion  of  satiety,  maketft  himself  cheap.  To  ap- 
ply one's  self  to  others  is  good  :  so  it  be  with  demon- 
stration that  a  man  doth  it  upon  regard,  and  not  upon 
facility.  It  is  a  good  precept,  generally  in  seconding 
another,  yet  to  add  somewhat  of  one's  own  ;  as  if  you 
will  grant  his  opinion,  let  it  be  with  some  distinction  ; 
if  you  will  follow  his  motion,  let  it  be  with  condition; 
if  you  allow  his  counsel,  let  it  be  with  alledging  far- 
ther reason.  Men  had  need  beware  how  they  be  too 
perfect  in  compliments;  for  be  they  never  so  sufficient 
otherwise,  their  enviers  will  be  sure  to  give  them  that 
attribute,  to  the  disadvantage  of  their  greater  virtues. 
It  is  loss  also  in  business,  to  be  too  full  of  respects,  or 
to  be  too  curious  in  observing  times  and  opportunities  : 
Solomon  saith,  He  that  considereth  the  icind  shall  not 
sow  ;  and  he  that  looketh  to  the  clouds  shall  not  reap.  A 

37$  Essays^  Civil  and  Moral. 

wise  man  will  make  more  opportunities  than  he  finds. 
Mens  behaviour  should  be  Jike  their  apparel;  not 
too  strait  or  point  device,  but  free  for  exercise  or 

LIU.     Of  PRAISE. 

PRAISE  is  the  reflexion  of  virtue:  but  it  is  as  the 
glass  or  body  which   giveth  the   reflexion.     If  it  be 
from  the   common  people,  it  is   commonly  false  and 
nought ;  and  rather  followeth  vain  persons  than  vir- 
tuous ;  for  the  common  people  understand  not  many 
excellent  virtues  :  the  lowest  virtues  draw  praise  from 
them:  the  middle  virtues  work  in  them  astonishment 
or  admiration  ;  but  of  the  highest  virtues  they  have 
no  sense  or  perceiving  at  all :  but  shews,  and  species 
•virtutibus  similes,  serve  best   with  them.     Certainly 
fame   is  like   a  river,    that    beareth  up  things  light 
and  swoln,  and  drowns  things  weighty  and  solid: 
but  if  persons  of  quality  and  judgment  concur,  then 
it  is,  as    the  Scripture  saith,  Nomen  bonum  instar  un- 
guentifragrantis.   It  filleth  all  round  about,  and  will 
not  easily  away :  for  the  odours  of  ointments  are  more 
durable  than  those  of  flowers.    There  be  so  many  false 
points  of  praise,  that  a  man  may  justly  hold  it  a  sus- 
pect.    Some  praises  proceed  merely  of  flattery  ;   and 
if  he  be  an    ordinary  flatterer,   he  will  have  certain 
common    attributes,    which  may  serve    every   man; 
if  he  be  a  cunning  flatterer,  he  will  follow  the  arch- 
flatterer,  which  is  a   man's  self;  and  wherein  a  man 
thinketh  best  of  himself,  therein  the  flatterer  will  up- 
hold him    most:  but  if  he  be   an  impudent  flatterer, 
Iook5  wherein  a  man  is  conscious  to  himself  that  he  is 
most  defective,  and    is  most   out  of  countenance  in 
himself,  that  will  the  flatterer  entitle  him  to  perforce, 
spreta  conscientia.    Some  praises  come  of  good  wishes 
and  respects,  which  is  a  form  due  in  civility  to  kings 
and  great  persons  ;  landando  pnecipere ;  when  by  tell- 
ing men  what  they  are,  they  represent  to  them  what 
they  should  be.     Some  men  are  praised  maliciously 
to  their  hurt,  thereby  to  stir  envy  and  jealousy  towards 
them  :  pessimum  genus  inimicorum  laudantium  ;  inso- 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  379 

much  as  it  was  a  proverb  amongst  the  Grecians,  that 
he  that  was  praised  to  his  hurt,  should  have  a  push 
rise  upon  his  nose  ;  as  we  say,  that  a  blister  will  rise 
upon  one's  tongue  that  tells  a  lie.  Certainly  moderate 
praise,  used  with  opportunity  and  not  vulgar,  is  that 
which  doth  the  good.  Solomon  saith,  He  that  prais- 
elh  his  friend  aloud,  rising  early,  it  shall  be  to  him  no 
belter  than  a  curse.  Too  much  magnifying  of  man 
or  matter,  doth  irritate  contradiction,  and  procure 
envy  and  scorn.  To  praise  a  man's  self  cannot  be 
decent,  except  it  be  in  rare  cases  :  but  to  praise  a 
man's  office  or  profession,  he  may  do  it  with  good 
grace,  and  with  a  kind  of  magnanimity.  The  cardi- 
nals of  Rome,  which  are  theologues,  and  friars  and 
schoolmen,  have  a  phrase  of  notable  contempt  and 
scorn,  towards  civil  business ;  for  they  call  all  tem- 
poral business,  of  wars,  embassages,  judicature,  and 
other  employments,  shirrerie,  which  is  under-she- 
rifTries,  as  if  they  were  but  matters  for  under-sheriffs 
and  catchpoles  ;  though  many  times  those  under-she- 
riftries  do  more  good  than  their  high  speculations.  St. 
Paul,  when  he  boasts  of  himself,  he  doth  oft  inter- 
lace, /  speak  like  a  fool ;  but  speaking  of  his  calling, 
he  saith,  magnijicabo  apostolatum  meum. 

LIV.      Of  VAIN-GLORY. 

IT  was  prettily  devised  of  ^Esop:  The  fly  sat  upon 
the  axle-tree  of  the  chariot-wheel,  and  said,  What  a 
-dust  do  I  raise  ?  So  are  there  some  vain  persons,  that 
whatsoever  goeth  alone,  or  moveth  upon  greater 
means,  if  they  have  never  so  little  hand  in  it,  they 
think  it  is  they  that  carry  it.  They  that  are  glorious 
must  needs  be  factious;  for  all  bravery  stands  upon 
comparisons.  They  must  needs  be  violent  to  make 
good  their  own  vaunts:  neither  can  they  be  secret, 
and  therefore  not  effectual ;  but  according  to  the 
French  proverb,  Beaucoup  de  bruit,  peu  de  fruit : 
Much  bruit,  little  fruit.  Yet  certainly  there  is  use  of 
this  quality  in  civil  affairs:  where  there  is  an  opinion, 
and  frame  to  be  created,  either  of  virtue  or  greatness, 
these  men  are  good  trumpeters.  Again,  as  Titus 

380  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

Livius  noteth,  in  the  case  of  Antiochus  and  the  ./Eto- 
Jians,  there  are  sometimes  great  effects  of  cross  lies ; 
as  if  a  man  that  negotiates  between  two  princes,  to 
draw  them  to  join  in  a  war  against  the  third,  doth  ex- 
tol the  forces  of  either  of  them  above  measure,  the  one 
to  the  other:  and  sometimes   he  that  deals  between 
man  and  man,    raiseth  his  owrn  credit  with  both,  by 
pretending  greater   interest  than  he   hath   in  either. 
And  in  these  and  the  like  kinds,  it  often  falls  out,  that 
somewhat  is  produced   of  nothing;  for  lies  are  suffi- 
cient to    breed  opinion,    and  opinion  brings  on  sub- 
stance.    In  military  commanders  and  soldiers,  vain- 
glory is  an   essential  point ;  for  as  iron  sharpens  iron, 
so  by  glory  one  courage  sharpeneth  another:  incases 
of  great   enterprise,   upon  charge   and  adventure,  a 
composition  of  glorious  natures  doth  put  life  into  bu- 
siness ;  and  those  that  are  of  solid  and  sober  natures, 
have  more  of  the  ballast  than  of  the  sail.     In  fame  of 
learning,  the  flight  will  be  slow,   without  some  fea- 
thers of  ostentation :  Qui  de  contemnenda  gloria  libr os 
scribunt,  women  suum  inscribunt.     Socrates,  Aristotle, 
Galen,  were  men  full  of  ostentation.     Certainly  vain- 
glory helpeth  to  perpetuate   a  man's   memory;  and 
virtue  was  never  so   beholden  to  human  nature,  as  it 
received  its  due  at  the  second  hand.     Neither  had  the 
fame  of  Cicero,  Seneca,  Plinius  Secundus,  borne  her 
age  so  well,  if  it  had  not  been  joined  with  some  va- 
nity in  themselves :    like   unto   varnish,  that  makes 
ceilings  not  only  shine  but  last.     But  all  this  while, 
when  I  speak  of  vain-glory,  I  mean  not  of  that  pro- 
perty that  Tacitus   doth  attribute  to  Mucianus;  om- 
niimi,  qua  dijcerat,feceratque,  arte  quadam  ostentator  : 
for  that  proceeds  not  of  vanity,  but  of  natural  magna- 
nimity and  discretion :  and  in  some  persons,   is  not 
.  only  comely  but  gracious.     For  excusations,  cessions, 
modesty  itself  well  governed,  are  but  arts  of  ostenta- 
tion.    And  amongst  those  arts,  there   is  none  better 
than  that  which  Plinius  Secundus  speaketh  of;  which 
is  to  be  liberal  of  praise  and  commendation  to  others, 
in  that  wherein  a  man's  sell  hath  any  perfection.   For, 
saith  Pliny,  very  wittily,  "  in   commending  another 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  381 

"  you  do  yourself  right ;  for  he  that  you  commend  is 
"  either  superior  to  you  in  that  you  commend,  or 
"  inferior.  If  he  be  inferior,  if  he  be  to  be  com- 
**  mended,  you  much  more.  If  he  be  superior,  if  he 
"  be  not  to  be  commended,  you  much  less."  Glo- 
rious men  are  the  scorn  of  wise  men;  the  admiration 
of  fools  ;  the  idols  of  parasites  -,  and  the  slaves  of  their 
own  vaunts. 


THE  winning  of  honour  is  but  the  revealing  of  a 
man's  virtue  and  worth  without  disadvantage.  For 
some  in  their  actions  do  woo  and  affect  honour  and 
reputation;  which  sort  of  men  are  commonly  much 
talked  of,  but  inwardly  little  admired.  And  some, 
contrariwise,  darken  their  virtue  in  the  shew  of  it ;  so 
as  they  be  undervalued  in  opinion.  If  a  man  perform 
that  which  hath  not  been  attempted  before,  or  at- 
tempted and  given  over;  or  hath  been  atchieved,  but 
not  with  so  good  circumstance ;  he  shall  purchase 
more  honour  than  by  effecting  a  matter  of  greater  dif- 
ficulty or  virtue,  wherein  he  is  but  a  follower.  If  a 
man  so  temper  his  actions,  as  in  some  one  of  them  he 
doth  content  every  faction  or  combination  of  people, 
the  music  will  be  the  fuller.  A  man  is  an  ill  husband 
of  his  honour  that  entereth  into  any  action,  the  failing 
wherein  may  disgrace  him  more  than  the  carrying  of 
it  through  can  honour  him.  Honour  that  is  gained 
and  broken  upon  another,  hath  the  quickest  reflexion, 
like  diamonds  cut  with  fascets.  And  therefore  let  a 
man  contend  to  excel  any  competitors  of  his  in  ho- 
nour, in  out-shooting  them,  if  he  can,  in  their  own 
bow.  Discreet  followers  and  servants  help  much  to 
reputation  :  omnisfama  a  domesticis  emanat.  Envy, 
which  is  the  canker  of  honour,  is  best  extinguished 
by  declaring  a  man's  self,  in  his  ends  rather  to  seek 
merit  than  fame ;  arid  by  attributing  a  man's  suc- 
cesses rather  to  divine  providence  and  felicity,  than 
to  his  own  virtue  or  policy.  The  true  marshalling  of 
the  degrees  of  sovereign  honour,  are  these.  In  the 
first  place  are  conditores  hnperiorum  ;  founders  of  states 

382  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral 

and  commonwealths ;  such  as  were  Romulus,  Cyrus, 
Caesar,  Ottoman,  Ismael.  In  the  second  place  are 
IcgislatereA,  lawgivers,  which  are  also  called  second 
founders,  or  perpetui  principes,  because  they  govern 
by  their  ordinances,  after  they  are  gone  :  such  were 
Lycurgus,  Solon,  Justinian,  Edgar,  Alphonsus  of 
Castile  the  wise,  that  made  the  Siete  partidas.  In 
the  third  place  are  liberatores,  or  salvatores ;  such 
as  compound  the  long  miseries  of  civil  wars,  or  deliver 
their  countries  from  servitude  of  strangers  or  tyrants  ; 
as  Augustus  Caesar,  Vespasianus,  Aurelianus,  Theo- 
doricus;  King  Henry  the  Seventh,  of  England  ;  King 
Henry  the  Fourth,  of  France.  In  the  fourth  place 
are  propagators,  or  propugnatores  imperil,  such  as  in 
honourable  wars  enlarge  their  territories,  or  make  no- 
ble defence  against  invaders.  And  in  the  last  place 
are,  patres  patria,  which  reign  justly,  and  make  the 
times  good  wherein  they  live.  Both  which  last  kinds 
need  no  examples,  they  are  in  such  number.  Degrees 
of  honour  in  subjects  are;  first,  participes  curarum, 
those  upon  whom  princes  do  discharge  the  greatest 
weight  of  their  affairs ;  their  right  handsy  as  we  call 
them.  The  next  are  duces  belli,  great  leaders  ;  such 
as  are  princes  lieutenants,  and  do  them  notable  ser- 
vices in  the  wars.  The  third  are  gratiosi,  favourites ; 
such  as  exceed  not  this  scantling,  to  be  solace  to  the 
sovereign,  and  harmless  to  the  people  :  and  the  fourth, 
negotiis  pares;  such  as  have  great  places  under 
princes,  and  execute  their  places  with  sufficiency. 
There  is  an  honour  likewise,  which  may  be  ranked 
amongst  the  greatest,  which  happeneth  rarely :  that 
is,  of  such  as  sacrifice  themselves  to  death  or  danger 
for  the  good  of  their  country ,  as  was  M.  Regulus, 
and  the  two  Decii. 


JUDGES  ought  to  remember,  that  their  office  is 
jits  dicej-e,  and  nott/z«-  dare;  to  interpret  law,  and  not 
to  make  law,  or  give  law.  Else  will  it  be  like  the  au- 
thority claimed  by  the  church  of  Rome;  which,  un- 
der pretext  of  exposition  of  Scripture,  doth  not  stick 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  383 

to  add  and  alter ;  and  to  pronounce  that  which  they 
do  not  find ;  and  by  shew  of  antiquity  to  introduce 
novelty.  Judges  ought  to  be  more  learned  than 
witty  ;  more  reverend  than  plausible ;  and  more  ad- 
vised than  confident.  Above  all  things,  integrity  is 
their  portion  and  proper  virtue.  Cursed,  saith  the 
law,  is  he  that  removeth  the  land-mark.  The  mislayer 
of  a  mere-stone  is  to  blame  :  but  it  is  the  unjust  judge 
that  is  the  capital  remover  of  land-marks,  when  he  de- 
fineth  amiss  of  lands  and  property.  One  foul  sentence 
doth  more  hurt  than  many  foul  examples.  For  these 
do  but  corrupt  the  stream  :  the  other  corrupteth  the 
fountain.  So  saith  Solomon ;  Forts  turbatus,  et  vena 
corrupt  a,  est  Justus  cadcns  in  causa  sua  coram  adversa- 
ria. The  office  of  judges  may  have  reference  unto 
the  parties  that  sue ;  unto  the  advocates  that  plead  ; 
unto  the  clerks  and  ministers  of  justice  underneath 
them  ;  and  to  the  sovereign  or  state  above  them. 

First,  for  the  causes  or  parties  that  sue.  There  be, 
saith  the  Scripture,  that  turn  judgment  into  wormwood; 
and  surely  there  be  also  that  turn  it  into  vinegar :  for 
injustice  maketh  it  bitter,  and  delays  make  it  sour. 
The  principal  duty  of  a  judge  is,  to  suppress  force  and 
fraud  ;  whereof  force  is  the  more  pernicious  when  it 
is  open ;  and  fraud  when  it  is  close  and  disguised. 
Add  thereto  contentious  suits,  which  ought  to  be 
spewed  out  as  the  surfeit  of  courts.  A  judge  ought  to 
prepare  his  way  to  a  just  sentence,  as  God  useth  to 
prepare  his  way,  by  raising  valleys  and  taking  down 
hills  :  so  when  there  appeareth  on  either  side  an  high 
hand,  violent  prosecution,  cunning  advantages  taken, 
combination,  power,  great  counsel,  then  is  the  virtue 
of  a  judge  seen,  to  make  inequality  equal ;  that  he 
may  plant  his  judgment  as  upon  an  even  ground.  Qui 
fortiteremungit,  elicit  sanguinem  ;  and  where  the  wine- 
press is  hard  wrought,  it  yields  a  harsh  wine,  that 
tastes  of  the  grape-stone.  Judges  must  beware  of 
hard  constructions  and  strained  inferences  ;  for  there 
is  no  worse  torture  than  the  torture  of  laws:  especially 
in  case  of  laws  penal  they  ought  to  have  care,  that 
that  which  was  meant  for  terror  be  not  turned  into 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

rigour;  and  that  they  bring  not  upon  the  people  that 
shower  whereof  the  Scripture  speaketh, />/*/<?/  super  eos 
laqueos :  for  penal  laws  pressed  are  a  shower  of  snares 
upon  the  people.  Therefore  let  penal  laws,  if  they 
have  been  sleepers  of  long,  or  if  they  be  grown  unfit 
for  the  present  time,  be  by  wise  judges  confined  in  the 
execution  ;  Judicis  qffidum  esf,  lit  res,  if  a  tempora  re^ 
rum,  etc.  In  causes  of  life  and  death,  judges  ought, 
as  far  as  the  law  permitteth,  in  justice  to  remember 
mercy ;  and  to  cast  a  severe  eye  upon  the  example, 
but  a  merciful  eye  upon  the  person. 

Secondly,  for  the  advocates  and  counsel  that  plead  : 
patience  and  gravity  of  hearing  is  an  essential  part  of 
justice;  and  an  over-speaking  judge  is  no  well-tuned 
cymbal.  It  is  no  grace  to  a  judge,  first  to  find  that 
which  he  might  have  heard  in  due  time  trom  the  bar; 
or  to  shew  quickness  of  conceit  in  cutting  offevi* 
dence  or  counsel  too  short ;  or  to  prevent  information 
by  questions,  though  pertinent.  The  parts  'of  a  judge 
in  hearing  are  four:  to  direct  the  evidence  ;  to  mode* 
rate  length,  repetition,  or  impertinency  of  speech  ;  to 
recapitulate,  select,  and  collate,  the  material  points  of 
that  which  hath  been  said ;  and  to  give  the  rule  or 
sentence.  Whatsoever  is  above  these,  is  too  much  ; 
and  proceedeth  either  of  glory  and  willingness  to 
speak,  or  of  impatience  to  hear,  or  of  shortness  of  me- 
mory, or  of  want  of  a  stayed  and  equal  attention.  It 
is  a  strange  thing  to  see,  that  the  boldness  of  advo- 
cates should  prevail  with  judges;  whereas  they  should 
imitate  God,  in  whose  seat  they  sit:  who  represseth 
the  presumptuous,  and  giveth  grace  to  the  modest.  But 
it  is  more  strange  that  judges  should  have  noted  fa- 
vourites;  which  cannot  but  cause  multiplication  of 
fees  and  suspicion  of  bye-ways.  There  is  due  from 
the  judge  to  the  advocate  some  commendation  and 
gracing  where  causes  are  well  handled,  and  fairly 
pleaded  ;  especially  towards  the  side  which  obtaineth 
not;  for  that  upholds  in  the  client  the  reputation  of 
his  counsel,  and  beats  down  in  him  the  conceit  of  his 
cause.  There  is  likewise  due  to  the  public  a  civil  re- 
prehension of  advocates,  where  there  appeareth  can- 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  s  8  5 

ning  counsel,  gross  neglect,  slight  information,  indis- 
creet pressing,  or  an  over-bold  defence.  And  let  not 
the  counsel  at  the  bar  chop  with  the  judge,  nor  wind 
himself  into  the  handling  of  the  cause  anew,  after  the 
judge  hath  declared  his  sentence :  but  on  the  other 
side,  let  not  the  judge  meet  the  cause  halfway  ;  nor 
give  occasion  to  the  party  to  say,  his  counsel  or 
proofs  were  not  heard. 

Thirdly,  for  that  that  concerns  clerks  and  ministers. 
The  place  of  justice  is  an  hallowed  place  ;  and  there- 
fore not  only  the  bench,  but  the  footpace  and  pre- 
cincts, and  purprise  thereof,  ought  to  be  preserved 
without  scandal  and  corruption.  For  certainly  grapes, 
as  the  Scripture  saith,  ivill  not  be  gathered  of  thorns  or 
thistles  :  neither  can  justice  yield  her  fruit  with  sweet- 
ness, amongst  the  briers  and  brambles  of  catching  and 
polling  clerks  and  ministers.  The  attendance  of 
courts  is  subject  to  four  bad  instruments.  First,  cer- 
tain persons  that  are  sowers  of  suits  ;  which  make  the 
court  swell,  and  the  country  pine.  The  second  sort 
is  of  those  that  engage  courts  in  quarrels  of  juris- 
diction, and  are  not  truly  amid  curia,  but  parasiti 
curia:,  in  puffing  a  court  up  beyond  her  bounds,  for 
their  own  scraps  and  advantage.  The  third  sort  is 
of  those  that  may  be  accounted  the  left  hands  of  courts^ 
persons  that  are  full  of  nimble  and  sinister  tricks 
and  shifts,  whereby  they  pervert  the  plain  and  direct 
courses  of  courts,  and  bring  justice  into  oblique  lines 
and  labyrinths.  And  the  fourth  is,  the  poller  and 
cxacter  of  fees  ;  which  justifies  the  common  resem- 
blance of  the  courts  of  justice  to  the  bush,  where- 
unto  while  the  sheep  flies  for  defence  in  bad  weather, 
he  is  sure  to  lose  part  of  his  fleece.  On  the  other 
side,  an  ancient  clerk,  skilful  in  precedents,  wary  in 
proceeding,  and  understanding  in  the  business  of  the 
court,  is  an  excellent  finger  of  a  court,  and  doth 
many  times  point  the  way  to  the  judge  himself. 

Fourthly,  for  that  which  may  concern  the  sovereign 
and  estate.  Judges  ought  above  all  to  remember  the 
conclusion  of  the  Roman  twelve  tables ;  salus  pojndi 
suprema  lex ;  and  to  know  that  laws,  except  they  be 

VOL.  II.  C  C 

386  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

in  order  to  that  end,  are  but  things  captious,  and 
oracles  not  well  inspired.     Therefore  it  is  an  happy 
thing  in  a  state,  when  kings  and  states  do  often  con* 
suit  with  judges ;  and  again,  when  judges  do  often 
consult  with  the  king  and  state  ;  the  one,  when  there 
is  matter  of  law  intervenient  in  business  of  state ; 
the  other,  when  there  is  some  consideration  of  state 
intervenient  in  maiter  of  law.     For  many  times  the 
things  deduced  to  judgment  may  be  meum  and  tuum, 
when  the  reason  and  consequence  thereof  may  trench 
to  point  of  estate  :  I  call  matter  of  estate,  not  only 
the  parts  of  sovereignty,  but  whatsoever  introduceth 
any  great  alteration,  or  dangerous  precedent ;  or  con- 
cerneth  manifestly  any  great  portion  of  people.    And 
let  no  man  weakly  conceive,  that  just  laws  and  true 
policy   have  any  antipathy ;   for  they   are   like   the 
spirits  and  sinews,  that  one  moves  with  the  other. 
Let  judges  also  remember,  that  Solomon's  throne  was 
supported  by  lions  on  both  sides ;    let  them  be  lions, 
but  yet  lions  under  the  throne ;  being  circumspect 
that  they  do  not  check  or  oppose  any  points  of  sove- 
reignty.    Let  not  judges  also  be  so  ignorant  of  their 
own  right,  as  to  think  there  is  not  left  to  them,  as 
a  principal  part  of  their  office,  a  wise  use  and  appli- 
cation of  laws.     For  they  may  remember  what  the 
apostle  saith  of  a  greater  law  than  theirs ;  Nos  scimus 
quia  lex  bona  est,  modo  quis  ea  utatur  legitimc. 

LVII,    Of  ANGER. 

TO  seek  to  extinguish  anger  utterly,  is  but  a 
bravery  of  the  Stoics.  We  have  better  oracles :  EC 
angry,  but  sin  not.  Let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon  your 
anger.  Anger  must  be  limited  and  confined,  both  in 
race  and  in  time.  We  will  first  speak,  how  the  na- 
tural inclination  and  habit,  to  be  angry^  may  be  at- 
tempered and  calmed.  Secondly,  how  the  particular 
motions  of  anger  may  be  repressed,  or  at  least  re- 
frained from  doing  mischief.  Thirdly,  how  to  raise 
anger,  or  appease  anger,  in  another. 

For  the  first,  there  is  no  other  way,  but  to  medi- 
tate and  ruminate  well  upon  the  effects  of  anger,  how 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  3  ^  j 

ft  troubles  man's  life.  And  the  best  time  to  do  this, 
Js  to  look  back  upon  anger  when  the  fit  is  thoroughly 
over.  Seneca  saith  well ;  That  anger  is  Jike  ruin 
which  breaks  itself  upon  that  it  falls.  The  Scrip- 
ture exhorteth  us,  to  possess  our  souls  in  patience. 
Whosoever  is  out  of  patience,  is  out  of  possession 
of  his  soul.  Men  must  not  turn  bees  ^ 
Animasque  in  vulnere  ponunt. 

Anger  is  certainly  a  kind  of  baseness  •,  as  it  ap- 
pears well  in  the  weakness  of  those  subjects  in  whom 
it  reigns ;  children,  women,  old  folks,  sick  folks. 
Only  men  must  beware,  that  they  carry  their  anger 
rather  with  scorn,  than  with  fear  ;  so  that  they  may 
seem  rather  to  be  above  the  injury,  than  below  it. 
Which  is  a  thing  easily  done,  if  a  man  will  give  law 
to  himself  in  it. 

For  the  second  point,  the  causes  and  motives  of 
anger  are  chiefly  three.  First,  to  be  too  sensible  of 
hurt;  for  no  man  is  angry  that  feels  not  himself  hurt: 
and  therefore  tender  and  delicate  persons  must  needs 
be  oft  angry  ;  they  have  so  many  things  to  trouble 
them,  which  more  robust  natures  have  little  sense 
of.  The  next  is  the  apprehension  and  construction 
of  the  injury  offered  to  be,  in  the  circumstances 
thereof,  full  of  contempt.  For  contempt  is  that 
which  putteth  an  edge  upon  anger,  as  much  or  more 
than  the  hurt  itself.  And  therefore  when  men  are 
ingenious  in  picking  out  circumstances  of  contempt, 
they  do  kindle  their  anger  much.  Lastly,  opinion  of 
the  touch  of  a  man's  reputation  doth  multiply  and 
sharpen  anger.  Wherein  the  remedy  is,  that  a  man 
should  have.,  as  Consalvo  was  wont  to  say,  telam  honoris 
crassiorem  But  in  all  retrainings  of  anger,  it  is  the 
best  remedy  to  win  time  :  and  to  make  a  man's  self 
believe,  that  the  opportunity  of  his  revenge  is  not  yet 
come  :  but  that  he  foresees  a  time  for  it,  and  so  to 
still  himself  in  the  mean  time,  and  reserve  it. 

To  contain  anger  from  mischief,  though  it  take 
hold  of  a  man,  there  be  two  things  whereof  you  must- 
have  special  caution.  The  one,  of  extreme  bitterness 
of  words,  especially  if  they  be  aculeate  and  proper: 

c  c  2 

588  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

for  communia  maledicta  are  nothing  so  much  :  and 
again,  that  in  anger  a  man  reveal  no  secrets  ;  for  that 
makes  them  not  fit  for  society.  The  other,  that  you 
do  not  peremptorily  break  off,  in  any  business,  in  a 
fit  of  anger:  but  howsoever  you  shew  bitterness,  do 
not  act  any  thing  that  is  not  revocable. 

For  raising  and  appeasing  anger  in  another ;  it  is 
done  chiefly  by  choosing  of  times.  When  men  are 
frowardest  and  worst  disposed,  to  incense  them. 
Again,  by  gathering,  as  was  touched  before,  all  that 
you  can  find  out  to  aggravate  the  contempt :  and  the 
two  remedies  are  by  the  contraries.  The  former,  to 
take  good  times,  when  first  to  relate  to  a  man  an 
angry  business:  for  the  first  impression  is  much.  And 
the  other  is,  to  sever,  as  much  as  may  be,  the  con- 
struction of  the  injury,  from  the  point  of  contempt : 
imputing  it  to  misunderstanding,  fear,  passion,  or 
what  you  will. 


SOLOMON  saith,  There  is  no  new  thing  upon  the 
earth  :  so  that  as  Plato  had  an  imagination,  that  all 
knowledge  was  but  remembrance  ;  so  Solomon  giveth 
his  sentence,  that  all  novelty  is  but  oblivion.  Whereby 
you  may  see,  that  the  river  of  Lethe  runneth  as  well 
above  ground  as  below.  There  is  an  abstruse  astro- 
loger, that  saith,  if  it  were  not  for  two  things  that 
are  constant  (the  one  is,  that  the  fixed  stars  ever  stand 
at  like  distance  one  from  another,  and  never  come 
nearer  together,  nor  go  farther  asunder:  the  other, 
that  the  diurnal  motion  perpetually  keepeth  time) 
no  individual  would  last  one  moment.  Certain  it  is, 
that  the  matter  is  in  a  perpetual  flux,  and  never  at  a 
stay.  The  great  winding  sheets,  that  bury  all  things 
in  oblivion,  are  two :  deluges  and  earthquakes.  As 
for  conflagrations,  and  great  droughts,  they  do  not 
merely  dispeople  and  destroy.  Phaeton's  car  went 
but  a  day.  And  the  three  years  drought  in  the  time 
of  Elias,  was  but  particular,  and  left  people  alive.  As 
for  the  great  burnings  by  lightnings,  which  are  often 
in  the  West-Indies,  they  are  but  narrow.  But  in  the 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  389 

Other  two  destructions,  by  deluge  and  earthquake,  it 
is  farther  to  be  noted,  that  the  remnant  of  people 
which  hap  to  be  reserved,  are  commonly  ignorant  and 
mountainous  people,  that  can  give  no  account  of  the 
time  past;  so  that  the  oblivion  is  alLone,  as  if  none 
had  been  left.  If  you  consider  well  of  the  people  of 
the  West-Indies,  it  is  very  probable  that  they  are  a 
newer  or  a  younger  people  than  the  people  of  the 
old  world  :  and  it  is  much  more  likely,  that  the 
destruction  that  hath  heretofore  been  there,  was  not 
by  earthquakes  (as  the  Egyptian  priest  told  Solon, 
concerning  the  island  of  Atlantis^  that  it  was  swal- 
lowed by  an  earthquake)  but  rather,  that  it  was 
desolated  by  a  particular  deluge ;  for  earthquakes  are 
seldom  in  those  parts:  but,  on  the  other  side,  they 
have  such  pouring  rivers,  as  the  rivers  of  Asia,  and 
Africa,  and  Europe,  are  but  brooks  to  them.  Their 
Andes  likewise,  or  mountains,  are  far  higher  than 
those  with  us ;  whereby  it  seems,  that  the  remnants 
of  generation  of  men  were  in  such  a  particular  deluge 
saved.  As  for  the  observation  that  Machiavel  hath, 
that  the  jealousy  of  sects  doth  much  extinguish  the 
memory  of  things ;  traducing  Gregory  the  Great, 
that  he  did  what  in  him  lay  to  extinguish  all  heathen 
antiquities  ;  I  do  not  find  that  those  zeals  do  any 
great  effects,  nor  last  long  ;  as  it  appeared  in  the 
succession  of  Sabinian,  who  did  revive  the  former 

The  vicissitude  or  mutations  in  the  superior  globe 
are  no  fit  matter  for  this  present  argument.  It  may 
be,  Plato's  great  year,  if  the  world  should  last  so  long, 
would  have  some  effect,  not  in  renewing  the  state  of 
like  individuals  (for  that  is  the  fume  of  those,  that 
conceive  the  celestial  bodies  have  more  accurate  in- 
fluences upon  these  things  below  than  indeed  they 
have,  but  in  gross.  Comets,  out  of  question,  have 
likewise  power  and  effect  over  the  gross  and  mass  of 
things :  but  they  are  rather  gazed  upon,  and  waited 
upon  in  their  journey,  than  wisely  observed  in  their 
effects ;  especially  in  their  respective  effects  :  that  is, 
what  kind  of  comet,  for  magnitude,  colour,  version 

300  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

of  the   beams,  placing  in  the  region  of  heaven,  or 
lasting,  produceth  what  kind  of  effects. 

There  is  a  toy,  which  I  have  heard,  and  I  would 
not  have  it  given  over,  but  waited  upon  a  little. 
They  say  it  is  observed  in  the  Low  Countries,  I  know 
not  in  what  part,  that  every  five  and  thirty  years,  the 
same  kind  and  sute  of  years  and  weathers  comes 
about  again  :  as  great  frost,  great  wet,  great  droughts, 
warm  winters,  summers  with  little  heat,  and  the  like  ; 
and  they  call  it  the  prime.  It  is  a  thing  I  do  the 
rather  mention,  because,  computing  backwards,  I 
have  found  some  concurrence. 

But  to  leave  these  points  of  nature,  and  to  come  to 
men.  The  greatest  vicissitude  of  things  amongst  men 
is  the  vicissitude  of  sects  and  religions  :  for  those  orbs 
rule  in  mens  minds  most.  The  true  religion  is  built 
upon  the  rock  :  the  rest  are  tossed  upon  the  waves  of 
time.  To  speak  therefore  of  the  causes  of  new  sects, 
and  to  give  some  counsel  concerning  them,  as  far  as 
the  weakness  of  human  judgment  can  give  stay  to  so 
great  revolutions. 

When  the  religion  formerly  received  is  rent  by  dis- 
cords ;  and  when  the  holiness  of  the  professors  of  re- 
ligion is  decayed  and  full  of  scandal ;  and  withal  the 
times  be  stupid,  ignorant,  and  barbarous,  you  may 
doubt  the  springing  up  of  a  new  sect ;  if  then  also 
there  should  arise  any  extravagant  and  strange  spirit 
to  make  himself  author  thereof:  all  which  points 
held  when  Mahomet  published  his  law.  If  a  new 
sect  have  not  two  properties,  fear  it  not;  for  it  will 
not  spread.  The  one  is  the  supplanting,  or  the  oppos- 
ing of  authority  established  :  for  nothing  is  more 
popular  than  that.  The  other  is  the  giving  licence  to 
pleasures  and  a  voluptuous  life.  For  as  for  specula- 
tive heresies,  such  as  wrere  in  ancient  times  the  Arians, 
and  now  the  Arminians,  though  they  work  mightily 
upon  men's  wits,  yet  they  do  not  produce  any  great 
alterations  in  states  ;  except  it  be  by  the  help  of  civil 
occasions.  There  be  three  manner  of  plantations  of 
new  sects;  by  the  power  of  signs  and  miracles;  by 
the  eloquence  and  wisdom  of  speech  and  persuasion  $ 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  391 

and  by  the  sword.  For  martyrdoms,  I  reckon  them 
amongst  miracles  ;  because  they  seem  to  exceed  the 
strength  of  human  nature ;  and  I  may  do  the  like  of 
superlative  and  admirable  holiness  of  life.  Surely  there 
is  no  better  way  to  stop  the  rising  of  new  sects  and 
sell  isms,  than  to  reform  abuses  ;  to  compound  the 
smaller  differences;  to  proceed  mildly,  and  not  with 
sanguinary  persecutions  ;  and  rather  to  take  off  the 
principal  authors,  by  winning  and  advancing  them, 
than  to  enrage  them  by  violence  and  bitterness. 

The  changes  and  vicissitudes  in  wars  are  many :  but 
chiefly  in  three  things ;  in  the  seats  or  stages  of  the 
war;  in  the  weapons;  and  in  the  manner  of  the  con- 
duct. Wars,  in  ancient  time,  seemed  more  to  move 
from  east  to  west:  for  the  Persians,  Assyrians,  Ara- 
bians, Tartars,  which  were  the  invaders,  were  all 
eastern  people.  It  is  true,  the  Gauls  were  western  j 
but  we  read  but  of  two  incursions  of  theirs;  the  one 
to  Gallo-Graecia,  the  other  to  Rome.  But  east  and 
west  have  no  certain  points  of  heaven  ;  and  no  more 
have  the  wars,  either  from  the  east  or  west,  any  cer- 
tainty of  observation.  Both  north  and  south  are 
fixed  :  and  it  hath  seldom  or  never  been  seen,  that  the 
far  southern  people  have  invaded  the  northern,  but 
contrariwise  ;  whereby  it  is  manifest,  that  the  nor- 
thern tract  of  the  world  is  in  nature  the  more  martial 
region  :  be  it  in  respect  of  the  stars  of  that  hemisphere, 
or  of  the  great  continents  that  are  upon  the  north  ; 
whereas  the  south  part,  for  ought  that  is  known,  is  al- 
most all  sea ;  or  (which  is  most  apparent)  of  the  cold 
of  the  northern  parts ;  which  is  that  which,  without 
aid  of  discipline,  doth  make  the  bodies  hardest,  and 
the  courages  warmest. 

Upon  the  breaking  and  shivering  of  a  great  state 
and  empire,  you  may  be  sure  to  have  wars.  For  great 
empires,  while  they  stand,  do  enervate  and  destroy  the 
forces  of  the  natives  which  they  have  subdued,  resting 
upon  their  own  protecting  forces  :  and  then  when  they 
fail  also;  all  goes  to  ruin,  and  they  become  a  prey.  So 
was  it  in  the  decay  of  the  Roman  empire,  and  like- 
wise in  the  empire  of  Almaigne,  after  Charles  the 

392  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. . 

Great,  every  bird  taking  a  feather;  and  were  not 
unlike  to  befal  to  Spain,  if  it  should  break.  The 
great  accessions  and  unions  of  kingdoms  do  like- 
wise stir  up  wars.  For  when  a  state  grows  to  an 
over-power,  it  is  like  a  great  flood,  that  will  be  sure 
to  overflow.  As  it  hath  been  seen  in  the  states  of 
Rome,  Turkey,  Spain,  and  others.  Look,  when  the 
world  hath  fewest  barbarous  people,  but  such  as  com- 
monly will  not  marry  or  generate,  except  they  know 
means  to  live,  as  it  is  almost  every  where  at  this 
day,  except  Tartary,  there  is  no  danger  of  inunda- 
tions of  people :  but  when  there  be  great  shoals  of 
people,  which  go  on  to  populate,  without  foreseeing 
means  of  life  and  sustentation,  it  is  of  necessity  that 
once  in  an  age  or  two  they  discharge  a  portion  of  their 
people  upon  other  nations;  which  the  ancient  nor- 
thern people  were  wont  to  do  by  lot ;  casting  lots 
what  parts  should  stay  at  home,  and  what  should  seek 
their  fortunes.  When  a  warlike  state  grows  soft  and 
effeminate,  they  may  be  sure  of  a  war.  For  com- 
monly such  states  are  grown  rich  in  the  time  of  their 
degenerating  ;  and  so  the  prey  inviteth,  and  their  de- 
cay in  valour  encourageth  a  war. 

As  for  the  weapons,  it  hardly  falleth  under  rule  and 
observation :  yet  we  see,  even  they  have  returns  and 
vicissitudes.  For  certain  it  is,  that  ordnance  was 
known  in  the  city  of  the  Oxidraces  in  India:  and  was 
that  which  the  Macedonians  called  thunder  and 
lightning,  and  magic.  And  it  is  well  known,  that 
the  use  of  ordnance  hath  been  in  China  above  two 
thousand  years.  The  conditions  of  weapons,  and 
their  improvement  are,  first,  the  fetching  afar  off; 
for  that  outruns  the  danger ;  as  it  is  seen  in  ordnance 
and  muskets.  Secondly,  the  strength  of  the  percus- 
sion ;  wherein  likewise  ordnance  do  exceed  all  arie- 
tations  and  ancient  inventions.  The  third  is,  the  com- 
modious use  of  them ;  as  that  they  may  serve  in  all 
weathers  ;  that  the  carriage  may  be  light  and  manage- 
able ;  and  the  like. 

For  the  conduct  of  the  war;  at  the  first,  men  rested 
extremely  upon  number :  they  did  put  the  wars  like  wise 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  393 

upon  main  force  and  valour,  pointing  days  for  pitched 
fields,  and  so  trying  it  out  upon  an  even  match  :  and 
they  were  more  ignorant  in  ranging  and  arraying 
their  battles.  After,  they  grew  to  rest  upon  number 
rather  competent  than  vast ;  they  grew  to  advantages 
of  place,  cunning  diversions,  and  the  like  :  and  they 
grew  more  skilful  in  the  ordering  of  their  battles. 

In  the  youth  of  a  state,  arms  do  flourish  ;  in  the 
middle  age  of  a  state,  learning  ;  and  then  both  of 
them  together  for  a  time  ;  in  the  declining  age  of 
a  state  mechanical  arts  and  merchandise.  Learning 
hath  its  infancy,  when  it  is  but  beginning  and  almost 
childish  :  then  its  youth,  when  it  is  luxuriant  and  ju- 
venile :  then  its  strength  of  years,  when  it  is  solid  and 
reduced  :  and  lastly,  its  old  age,  when  it  waxeth  dry 
and  exhausted.  But  it  is  not  good  to  look  too  long 
upon  these  turning  wheels  of  vicissitude,  lest  we  be- 
come giddy.  As  for  the  philology  of  them,  that  is 
but  a  circle  of  tales,  and  therefore  not  fit  for  this 

Of  a  KING. 

1.  A  KING  is  a  mortal  god  on  earth,  unto  whom 
the  living  God  hath  lent  his  own  name  as  a  great  ho- 
nour; but  withal  told  him,  he  should  die  like  a  man, 
lest  he  should  be  proud  and  flatter  himself,  that  God 
hath  with   his  name  imparted  unto  him   his  nature 

2.  Of  all  kind  of  men,  God  is  the  least  beholden 
unto  them  ;  for  he  doth  most  for  them,  and  they  do 
ordinarily  least  for  him. 

3.  A  king  that  would  not  feel  his  crown  too  heavy 
for  him,  must  wear  it  every  day  ;  but  if  he  think  it  too 
light,  he  knoweth  not  of  what  metal  it  is  made. 

4.  He  must  make  religion  the  rule  of  government, 
and  not  to  balance  the  scale  ;  for  he  that  casteth   in 
religion  only  to  make  the  scales  even,  his  own  weight 
is   contained  in  those  characters,    Mcne,  mene,  tekd, 
upharshiy  He  is  found  too  light,  his  kingdom  shall  be 
taken  from  him. 

5.  And  that  king  that  holds  not  religion  the  best 

394  Essays,  Civil  and  Mora<,. 

reason  of  state,  is  void  of  all  piety  and  justice,  the  sup- 
porters of  a  king. 

6.  He  must  be  able  to  give  counsel  himself,  but 
not    rely   thereupon;  for  though  happy  events  jus- 
tify their  counsels,  yet  it  is  better  that  the  evil  event 
of  good  advice  be  rather  imputed  to  a  subject  than  a 

7.  He  is  the  fountain  of  honour,  which  should  not 
run  with  a  waste  pipe,  lest  the  courtiers  sell  the  wa- 
ter, and  then,  as  papists  say  of  their  holy  wells,  it 
loses  the  virtue. 

8.  He  is  the  life  of  the  law,  not  only  as  he  is  lex 
loquens  himself,  but   because  he  animateth  the  dead 
letter,  making  it  active  towards  all  his  subjects  pramio 
et  pcena* 

9.  A  wise  king  must  do  less  in  altering  his  laws 
than  he  may ;  for  new  government  is  ever  dangerous. 
It  being  true  in  the  body  politic,  as  in  the  corporal, 
that  omnis  subita  immutatio  est  pericutosa  ;  and  though 
it  be  for  the  better,  yet  it    is  not  without  a  fearful 
apprehension ;  for  he  that  changeth   the  fundamental 
laws  of  a  kingdom,  thinketh  there  is  no  good  title  to 
a  crown,  but  by  conquest. 

10.  A  king  that  setteth  to  sale  seats  of  justice,  oppres- 
seth  the  people  ;  for  he  teacheth  his  judges  to  sell 
justice  ;  and  pretio  p arata  pretio  venditur  justitia. 

11.  Bounty  and  magnificence  are  virtues  very  regal, 
but  a  prodigal  king  is  nearer  a  tyrant  than  a  parsimo- 
nious;  for  store  at  home  draweth  not  his  contempla- 
tions abroad :  but  want  supplieth  itself  of  what    is 
next,  and  many  times  the  next  way :   a  king  herein 
must  be  wise,  and  know  what  he  may  justly  do. 

12.  That  king  which  is  not  feared,  is  not  loved- j 
and  he  that  is  well  seen   in   his  craft,  must  as  well 
study  to  be  feared  as  loved ;  yet  not  loved  for  fear, 
but  feared  for  love. 

13.  Therefore,    as   he  must  always  resemble  him 
whose  great  name  he  beareth,  and  that  as  in  manifest- 
ing the  sweet   influence  of  his"  mercy  on  the  severe 
stroke  of  his  justice  sometimes,  so  in  this  not  to  suffer 
a  map  of  death  to  live  5  for  besides  that  the  land  doth 

Essays,  Civ  it  and  Moral. 

mourn,  the  restraint  of  justice  towards  sin  doth  more 
retard  the  affection  of  love,  than  the  extent  of  mercy 
doth  inflame  it :  and  sure  where  love  is  [ill]  bestow- 
ed, fear  is  quite  lost. 

14.  His  greatest  enemies   are   his    flatterers;    for 
though  they'ever  speak  on  his  side,  yet  their  words 
still  make  against  him. 

15.  The  love  which  a  king  oweth  to  a  weal  public, 
should  not  be  restrained  to  any  one  particular ;  yet 
that  his  more  special  favour  do  reflect  upon  some  wor- 
thy ones,   is  somewhat  necessary,  because  there  are 
few  of  that  capacity. 

16.  He  must  have  a  special  care  of  five  things,  if 
he  would  not  have  his  crown  to  be  but  to  him  infdix 


First,  that  simulata  sanctitas  be  not  in  the  church  ; 
for  that  is  duplex  iniqidtas. 

Secondly,  that  inutilis  tequitas  sit  not  in  the  chan- 
cery ;  for  that  is  inept  a  misericordia . 

Thirdly,  that  utilis  iniquitas  keep  not  the  exche- 
quer ;  for  that  is  crudele  latrocinium. 

Fourthly,  \hvkjidelis  temeritas  be  not  his  general ; 
for  that  will  bring  but  seram  pamitentiam. 

Fifthly,  that  infidelis  prudentia  be  not  his  secretary; 
for  that  is  anguis  sub  viridi  herba. 

To  conclude ;  as  he  is  of  the  greatest  power,  so  he 
is  subject  to  the  greatest  cares,  made  the  servant  of 
his  people,  or  else  he  were  without  a  calling  at  all. 

He  then  that  honoureth  him  not  is  next  an  atheist, 
wanting  the  fear  of  God  in  his  heart. 

A  fragment  of  an  Essay  on  FAME. 

THE  poets  make  Fame  a  monster.  They  describe 
her  in  part  finely  and  elegantly  ;  and  in  part  gravely 
and  sententiously.  They  say  :  Look  how  many  fea- 
thers she  hath,  so  many  eyes  she  hath  underneath  ;  so 
many  tongues;  so  many  voices;  she  pricks  up  so 
many  ears. 

This  is  a  flourish,  there  follow  excellent  parables; 
as,  that  she  gathereth  strength  in  going ;  that  she 
goeth  upon  the  ground,  and  yet  hideth  her  -head  in 

396  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral. 

the  clouds:  that  in  the  day-time  she  sitteth  in  a 
watch  tower,  and  flieth  most  by  night :  that  she  min- 
gleth  things  done  with  things  not  done:  and  that  she 
is  a  terror  to  great  cities.  But  that  which  passeth  all 
the  rest  is,  they  do  recount  that  the  Earth,  mother  of 
the  giants,  that  made  war  against  Jupiter,  and  were 
by  him  destroyed,  thereupon  in  an  anger  brought 
forth  Fame  ;  for  certain  it  is  that  rebels,  figured  by 
the  giants,  and  seditious  fames  and  libels,  are  but 
brothers  and  sisters;  masculine  and  feminine.  But 
now  if  a  man  can  tame  this  monster,  and  bring  her  to 
feed  at  the  hand,  and  govern  her,  and  with  her  fly 
other  ravening  fowl,  and  kill  them,  it  is  somewhat 
worth.  But  we  are  infected  writh  the  stile  of  the 
poets.  To  speak  now  in  a  sad  and  a  serious  manner; 
there  is  not  in  all  the  politics  a  place  less  handled, 
and  more  worthy  to  be  handled,  than  this  of  fame. 
We  will  therefore  speak  of  these  points:  what  are 
false  fames;  and  what  are  true  fames;  and  how  they 
may  be  best  discerned ;  how  fames  may  be  sown  and 
raised;  how  they  may  be  spread  and  multiplied;  and 
how  they  may  be  checked  and  laid  dead.  And  other 
things  concerning  the  nature  of  iame.  Fame  is  of  that 
force,  as  there  is  scarcely  any  great  action  wherein  it 
hath  not  a  great  part,  especially  in  the  war.  Mucianus 
undid  Vitellius,  by  a  fame  that  he  scattered,  that  Vi- 
tellius  had  in  purpose  to  remove  the  legions  of  Syria 
into  Germany,  and  the  legions  of  Germany  into  Sy- 
ria ;  whereupon  the  legions  of  Syria  were  infinitely 
inflamed.  Julius  Caesar  took  Pompey  unprovided, 
and  laid  asleep  his  industry  and  preparations,  by  a 
fame  that  he  cunningly  gave  out,  how  Caesar's  own 
soldiers  loved  him  not ;  and  being  wearied  with  the 
wars,  and  laden  with  the  spoils  of  Gaul,  would  forsake 
him  as  soon  as  he  came  into  Italy.  Livia  settled  all 
things  for  the  succession  of  her  son  Tiberius,  by  conti- 
nual giving  out  that  her  husband  Augustus  was  upon 
recovery  and  amendment.  And  it  is  an  usual  thing 
"with  the  bashaws,  to  conceal  the  death  of  the  Great 
Turk  from  the  janizaries  and  men  of  war,  to  save  the 
sacking  of  Constantinople  and  other  towns,  as  their 

Essays,  Civil  and  Moral.  397 

manner  is.  Themistocles  made  Xerxes,  King  of  Per- 
sia, post  apace  out  of  Grecia,  by  giving  out  that  the 
Grecians  had  a  purpose  to  break  his  bridge  of  ships 
which  he  had  made  athwart  the  Hellespont.  There 
be  a  thousand  such  like  examples,  and  the  more  they 
are,  the  less  they  need  to  be  repeated,  because  a  man 
meeteth  with  them  ev«ry  where :  therefore  let  all 
wise  governors  have  as  great  a  watch  and  care  over 
fames,  as  they  have  of  the  actions  and  designs  them- 

The  rest  zvas  not  finished. 




JULIUS  CAESAR  did  write  a  collection  of  apoph- 
thegms, as  appears  in  an  epistle  of  Cicero  ;  so  did  Jlla- 
crobius,  a  consular  man.  I  need  say  no  more  for  the 
worth  of  a  writing  of  that  nature.  It  is  pity  Cesar's 
hook  is  lost :  for  I  imagine  they  were  collected  with 
judgment  and  choice ;  whereas  that  of  Plutarch  and 
Stobteus,  and  much  more  the  modern  ones,  draw  much 
of  the  dregs.  Certainly  they  are  of  excellent  use.  They 
are  mucrones  verborum,  pointed  speeches.  The  words 
of  the  wise  are  as  goads,  saith  Solamon.  Cicero  pret- 
tily calleth  them  salinas,  salt-pits,  that  you  may  extract 
salt  out  of,  and  sprinkle  it  where  you  will.  They  serve 
to  be  interlaced  in  continued  speech.  They  serve  to  be 
recited  upon  occasioji  of  themselves.  They  serve  if  you 
take  out  the  kernel  of  them,  and  make  them  your  ozvn.  I 
have,  for  my  recreation  amongst  more  serious  studies, 
collected  some  few  of  them*  :  therein  fanning  the  old-; 
not  omitting  any >  because  they  are  vulgar,  for  many  vul- 
gar ones  are  excellent  goods  nor  for  the  meanness  of  the 
person,  but  because  they  are  dull  and  Jlat  s  and  adding 
many  new,  that  otherwise  woidd  have  died. 

*  This  collection  his  lordship  made  out  of  his  memory,  without 
turning  any  book.     Haulo'. 


NEW   AND    OLD. 

1 .  V^JUEEN  Elizabeth,  the  morrow  of  her  corona- 
tion, it  being  the  custom  to  release  prisoners  at  the 
inauguration  of  a  prince,  went  to  the  chapel ;  and  in 
the  great  chamber,  one  of  her  courtiers,  who  was  well 
known  to  her,  either  out  of  his  own  motion,  or  by  the 
instigation  of  a  wiser  man,  presented  her  with  a  pe- 
tition ;  and  before  a  number  of  courtiers,  besought 
her  with  a  loud  voice,  "  That  now  this  good  time, 
"  there  might  be  four  or  five  principal  prisoners 
"  more  released  :  those  were  the  four  evangelists,  and 
"  the  apostle  St.  Paul,  who  had  been  long  shut  up  in 
<c  an  unknown  tongue,  as  it  were  in  prison  ;  so  as 
"  they  could  not.  converse  with  the  common  people.'* 
The  Queen  answered  very  gravely,  "  That  it  was  best 
"  first  to  inquire  of  them,  Whether  they  would  be 
*c  released  or  no." 

2.  Queen  Ann  Bullen,  at  the  time  when  she  was 
led  "to  be  beheaded  in  the  Tower,  called  one  of  the 
king's  privy-chamber  to  her,  and  said  unto  him,  "Com- 
"  mend  me  to  the  king,  and  tell  him  that  he  hath  been 
*c  ever  constant  in  his  course  of  advancing  me  ;  from 
"  a  private  gentlewoman  he  made  me  a  marchioness  -, 
"  and  from  a  marchioness  a  queen ;  and  now,  that  he 
"  hath  left  no  higher  degree  of  earthly  honour,  he  in- 
"  tends  to  crown  my  innocency  with  the  glory  of  mar- 
"  tyrdom." 

3.  His  majesty  James  the  first,  king  of  Great  Bri- 
tain, having  made  unto  his  parliament  an  excellent 
and  large  declaration,  concluded  thus  ;  "  I  have  now 
"  given  you  a  clear  mirrour  of  my  mind ;  use  it  there- 

VOL,  IT.  D  D 

402  Apophthegms* 

"  fore  like  a  mirrour,  and  take  heed  how  you  let  it 
"  fall,  or  how  you  soil  it  with  your  breath." 

4.  A  great  officer  in  France  was  in  danger  to  have 
lost  his  place  ;  but  his  wife,  by  her  suit  and  means 
making,  made  his  peace  ;  whereupon  a  pleasant  fel- 

,  low  said,  "  That  he  had  been  crushed,   but  that    he 
"  saved  himself  upon  his  horns." 

5.  His  majesty  said  to  his  parliament  at  another 
tim'e,  finding  there  were  some  causeless  jealousies  sown 
amongst  them  ;    "  That  the   king   and  his  people, 
"  whereof  the  parliament  is  the  representative  body, 
"  were  as  husband  and  wife  ;  and  therefore   that  of 
'*  all  other  things  jealousy  was  between  them  most 
"  pernicious." 

6.  His  majesty,  when  he  thought  his  council  might 
note  in  him  some  variety  in  businesses,  though  indeed 
he  remained  constant,  would  say,  "  That  the  sun  many 
"  times  shineth  watery  ;  but  it  is  not  the  sun  which 
"  causeth  it,  but  some  cloud   rising  betwixt  us  and 
"  the  sun  :  and  when  that  is  scattered,  the  sun  is  ae 
"  it  was,  and  comes  to  his  former  brightness." 

7.  His  majesty,  in  his  answer  to  the  book  of  the 
cardinal  of  Evereux,  who  had  in  a  grave  argument 
of  divinity  sprinkled  many  witty  ornaments  of  poesy 
and  humanity,   saith;  "   That    these    flowers   were 
."  like  blue,  and  yellow,  and  red  flowers  in  the  corn, 
cc  which  make  a  pleasant  shew  to  those  that    look 
"  on,  but  they  hurt  the  corn." 

8.  Sir  Edward  Coke  being  vehement  against  the 
two  provincial  councils  of  Wales,  and  the  north,  said  to 
the  king  ;  "  There  was  nothing  there  but  a  kind  of 
<f  confusion  and  hotch-potch  of  justice  :  one   while 
"  they  were  a  star-chamber  ;  another  while  a  kings- 
"  bench ;  another,  a  common  pleas  ;  another,  a  com* 
cc  mission  of  oyer  and  terminer."     His  majesty  an- 
swered >  "  Why,  Sir  Edward   Coke,   they   be  like 
*c  houses  in  progress,  where  I  have  not,  nor  can  have, 
"  such  distinct  rooms   of  state,  as  I  have   here  at 
"  Whitehall,  or  at  Hampton-court." 

9.  The  commissioners  of  the  treasury  moved  the 
.king  for  the  .relief  of  his  ettate,  to  disafforest  some 

Apophthegms.  403 

forests  of  his,  explaining  themselves  of  such  forests 
as  lay  out  of  the  way,  not  near  any  of  the  king's 
houses,  nor  in  the  course  of  his  progress  ;  whereof 
he  should  never  have  use  nor  pleasure.  "  Why,"  saith 
the  king,  "  do  you  think  that  Solomon  had  use  and 
"pleasure  of  all  his  three  hundred  concubines?" 

10.  His  majesty,  when  the  committees  of  both 
houses  of  parliament  presented  unto  him  the  instru- 
ment of  union  of  England  and  Scotland,  was  merry 
with  them ;    and  amongst  other  pleasant  speeches, 
shewed  unto  them  the  laird  of  Lawreston  a  Scotch- 
man, who  was  the  tallest  and  greatest  man  that  was 
to  be  seen,  and  said,  "  Well,  now  we  are  all  one,  yet 
"  none  of  you  will  say,  but   here  is  one  Scotchman 
"  greater  than  any  Englishman;'*  which  was  an  am- 
biguous speech ;  but  it  was  thought  he  meant  it  of 

11.  His  majesty  would    say  to   the  lords  of   his 
council,  when  they  sat  upon  any  great  matter,  and 
came  from  council  in  to  him,  "  Well,  you  have  sat, 
"  but  what  have  you  hatched  ?" 

12.  When  the  archduke  did  raise  his  siege  from  the 
Grave,  the  then  secretary  came  to  queen  Elizabeth. 
The  queen,  having  fi